You Might Have Changed
by BitchPrincessOfPunkRock
Summary: Marauders Era. RemusLupin/SiriusBlack. JamesPotter/LilyEvans. **DOWN FOR EDITING** For details, see my profile page.
1. Can Anybody Live Like This?

**Can Anybody Live Like This?**

It was early. A cold mist swirled around the boys ankles, hovering just above the shimmering surface of the lake. He stared at it without really looking. He had other things on his mind.

The boy was Remus John Lupin. Fifteen-years-old. A wizard. And a Werewolf.

None of these was his problem, of course. He had always known he was a wizard, as were his parents. Likewise, his Lycanthropy had been inflicted upon him when he had been barely more than a toddler, and he couldn't honestly remember a time without his monthly transformations.

Nor did it bother him that he was awake at 5.30, or that tonight was the full moon. He had long since become resigned to the fact that he would barely sleep the night prior to a change, and would suffer immensely the day after.

And yet here he stood. Worrying.

He closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly. His muscles were aching in anticipation for the evening, tugging painfully. He ignored it as best he could, focusing on the cold, crisp morning air.

He stood like that for a long time, just breathing deeply. Unfortunately, it didn't help at all. He was just as anxious at 6.45, when the mist had thinned under the rising sun. He decided to head back up to the castle and rouse his friends, who would otherwise happily sleep away the mornings classes.

The great castle of Hogwarts school was vast, and oddly calming in the mornings. No students running about, late for classes, or teachers for that matter. No Filch or his ridiculously anthropomorphic cat Mrs Norris, looking for trouble where there wasn't any. And, most unnervingly for Remus, not a single Marauder causing said trouble.

' Well, we'll soon put an end to that particular problem,' he muttered to himself, as he crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

It was, of course, empty at such an early hour. Nevertheless, he padded quietly up the stairs into the boys dormitories. There stood four four-poster beds, each draped with crimson and gold curtains, almost shinning as the sun crept up the skyline. One was neatly made, the other three still held sleeping figures wrapped up in heaps of blankets.

Remus paused for a moment, considering his options. It took too long. The bed to the right of his own neatly made-up one stirred, a mop of black hair poking out of the sheets.

Sirius Black spotted Remus standing in the middle of the room, and raised a questioning eyebrow over eyes still bleary with sleep. Remus gestured to the remaining heaps of boy and blanket. Sirius nodded, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face as he reached for his wand, the early-morning-glaze gone instantaneously.

He snatched it up, and flicked it casually. The two slumbering boys were quite suddenly dragged from their beds and left to dangle helplessly in the air by their right ankles. For a moment there was a shocked silence in the room. It didn't last.

' Oi! What the Hell, Padfoot?' James yelled, indignantly. ' What the Bloody Hell!'

Peter squeaked loudly as he flailed about.

' That sound is terribly unflattering, Peter,' Remus felt compelled to point out.

' I was sleeping!' boomed James, as though that settled matters.

' Exactly,' Sirius grinned. ' Lazy toe-rag that you are. Should be up.'

They continued making very undignified sounds, writhing in the air, for several minutes. Sirius was grinning like a madman, grey eyes positively gleaming. Remus finally offered, ' You know, he'll let you down if you stop making such a fuss.'

The pair settled. James very quickly, crossing his arms and scowling. Peter not so much. Once they both hung limply in the air, Sirius flicked his wand again and the pair tumbled unceremoniously onto their mattresses. They both mumbled and cursed and shot filthy looks in Sirius' direction while they straightened themselves up and patted themselves down.

' Oh, shut it,' Sirius said, clambering out of his own bed. ' We have more important things to think about today.'

And suddenly the muttering stopped, three pairs of eyes locking onto Remus. He squirmed. James looked excited, Peter absolutely terrified, but determined. Sirius was grinning again. Remus felt like he should say something.

' Erm,' he started, eloquently. ' We… We've to get through the day first. Don't worry about it yet.'

' I suppose,' James said. ' No doubt you'll be worrying enough for all of us.'

The others laughed, and the awkward moment passed. They joked and teased and giggled as they dressed and headed down to the Great Hall for Breakfast.

James was right, of course. Remus was worrying. Not because he is a wizard and a werewolf and a bit an awkward teenage boy. But because tonight is the first Full Moon of the school year, two weeks into term.

And because tonight, his friends are going to transform with him.

**Okay, so I've just been re-reading the Harry Potter Books to get into story for my other Fic 'Where the Freaks all Come Around' and I just realised that this pairing could be completely canon. I'd never thought about it before, but it fits perfectly. **

**Kind of like the whole 'Dumbledore is gay' thing, which wasn't mentioned directly in the narrative of the books, but the hints are there. I mean, they basically lived together for seven years at school. James had Lily, but these guys are never mentioned with anyone else. In the pensieve, Harry says Sirius is oblivious to the girls eying him up. And even Lupin/Tonks fits, because they didn't bond until after Sirius died. **

**So being the crazed fan girl I secretly am, I went from never having thought about them as a couple to obsessing and loving it. And this is the result, so enjoy!**

**So, please Review because I've never attempted to write anything like this before. I'd appreciate the feedback. Danke! xx**


	2. Illiterates and Exhibitionists

**Illiterates and Exhibitionists**

Remus can remember the first time Sirius had accompanied him to the Shrieking Shack. It had been the last Full Moon of their fourth year. Sirius, being the magical genius he was when he could maintain his interest long enough, had been the first to master the Animagus Transformation. And, being the impatiently hyperactive person he was the majority of the time, he couldn't wait for the others to master the process.

He had 'borrowed' James' invisibility cloak and snuck out to the shack alone. This had of course meant waiting for James and Peter to fall asleep first and, as such, he hadn't arrived until well into the night.

Remus had already transformed and could recall nothing of the nights events until he awoke with the sunrise, curled in a corner and covered with a blanket. This itself had confused him, and then the pain set in. Or rather, the lack thereof.

His eyes were still stinging in the lights, and his limbs ached through to the bone, but the migraine was subdued and the nausea manageable. And there weren't nearly as many scratches as usual.

He had been more than a little startled when the huge black dog padded out from the shadows, becoming his friend mid-stride. His stormy grey eyes had been wide, questioning and wary.

In that sickeningly long instant, Remus had thought their friendship was over. It was one thing to know about his 'furry little problem', but to actually witness it? To watch his bones shatter and reform, the flesh rearranging itself over new sinew and muscle. And the howling…

What had they been thinking! Now Sirius had seen exactly the kind of monster Remus really was, and Remus couldn't blame him for looking so tentative.

' Padfoot, I… uh…' He sighed, looking pointedly at the floor. Then he sucked in a deep breath and said very quickly, ' I understand. I mean I'm a monster, and now you know exactly how much and you'll never want to see me again and you'll warn Peter and James not to bother anymore and…' He finally stopped for a breath, then added more coherently, ' I understand if you don't want…'

But he was cut off as Sirius closed the gap between them in a stride and pulled him into a fierce hug.

' Don't want to what?' He demanded. ' What don't I want anymore?'

' Well,' Remus muttered, still looking at the floor. ' To hang out with me.'

' You are a complete idiot sometimes, Moony!' He exclaimed, pulling Remus' chin up and forcing him to too look at his face. ' How could I see exactly what you go through every bloody month, and then turn around and walk away. Abandon you?'

Remus hadn't know what to say, and looked at the floor again, finding his feet. He wiggled his toes, and it was a sudden and poignant reminder that he was naked. He felt his cheeks burn as his face flushed crimson, making a very eloquent little squeaking noise with the back of his throat.

Sirius took the hint, and began rummaging around the room for clothes, throwing them unceremoniously in the general direction of Remus, who quickly pulled them on. When his head popped out of his jumper he found Sirius watching him closely, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

' What?' Remus demanded, nervously.

Sirius' rough fingertips traced a new cut across his face with a surprising gentleness. The line cut across the corner of his mouth diagonally, grazing the flesh of his lips. He inhaled sharply as the fingers mimicked the slash. Fortunately, the older boy mistook the gasp for pain and withdrew.

He fixed Remus with a determined stare, grey eyes locking onto Remus' hazel ones.

' I am going to do whatever I can to stop you from doing this to yourself,' he said, slowly and clearly, and the werewolf had believed him.

And now here they were again, standing in the Shack in the darkness, nervous and apprehensive. Only four instead of two, and - for the moment at least - all human.

They had come out earlier so Remus could show them how to bypass the Whomping Willow and show them the tunnel and the house itself. Sirius was the only one to have actually been here before, though they had all nagged. Remus had refused them every time, knowing just how dangerously the fragmented line between curiosity and obsession was in these boys. Particularly Sirius. He hadn't wanted one of them to become so interested in seeing a true werewolf that they forgot about the danger of it all.

James was looking around the house, quickly scanning each room in turn. Peter was nervously eying the smashed furniture scattered on the floor, the long deep gashes in the wood. Sirius was watching the other two closely, almost challenging one of them to say _I'm not so sure anymore._ Neither did.

Remus checked his watch, then made for the stairs.

' It's nearly time,' he said, unconsciously tensing his shoulders, stretching the muscles.

James nodded, determinedly, making to follow him, the others in tow.

They reached the bedroom of the house, and Remus removed his shirt, folding it neatly and pulling it in small trunk by the bed.

' You probably want to change now,' he said, quietly.

' We're with you,' Sirius said, crouching to the ground and becoming a bear-sized dog, his grey eyes entirely focused on Remus'.

' All… All the way,' Peter stammered out, and Remus felt a surge of affection for the smaller boy. He was clearly terrified, but he was still here.

Remus watched as Peter sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, and closed his eyes in concentration. It took longer than it had Sirius, but after a few moments the boy had shrunk significantly and grown fur and whiskers, and scuttled over to the boarded-up window, where he perched himself on the 'sill.

James beamed, and Remus wondered fleetingly how much credit for Wormtails transformation belonged to Padfoot and Prongs. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up at James' bespeckled face. His eyes were confident and reassuring.

' We'll see you on the other side, mate.'

He stepped back slowly and then he was gone, replaced by a large brown creature with four legs and antlers. It cantered back a few more steps, then bent its front legs and bowed it's head.

' I… I don't - Thank you,' Remus managed, cursing the inadequacy of the words. He didn't know if they understood him, even, and for moment he hoped they couldn't, then he could try again in the morning.

He didn't get long to worry about it, though. His joints screamed as the moonlight flickered through the slats of the window blockade. He felt his body hunch over, bones cracking as they reshaped, muscles stretching. His vision burned white with the pain. He heard a distant _thud_ as his body fell to the floor.

He heard the howl, long and low, as everything went black.

Remus awoke in almost the exact same spot as when Sirius had been with him, curled in the far corner of the bedroom, wrapped in a thick blanket. He didn't open his eyes immediately, but lay there enjoying the warmth against his aching body. He snuggled deeper into the heat, sighing contentedly.

' Make yourself comfortable.'

' Gah!' was the only response Remus' brain deemed adequate. He opened his eyes and was confronted with Sirius' face, eyebrow raised in amusement.

' Anyone'd think it was a bleeding hotel!' James said from somewhere beyond Remus' immediate vision.

James was here too? They stayed all night. He could hear Peter giggling in the background, too. Remus realised he was gawping, and closed his mouth.

' You… What are you doing here?' He asked, after a moment to compose himself.

' See,' Sirius shouted, triumphantly. ' I told you that's what he'd say!'

' So you did,' James agreed, patronisingly, like addressing a child.

' Aren't you glad we stayed with you?' Peter said, quietly, eyes wide.

The question took Remus by surprise. Had he sounded so ungrateful? Words were failing him, and he suddenly felt illiterate to the worst degree.

' Of course I am! I… Well, I don't… Don't really know what to… How to say… ' He managed to stammer out before James cut him off.

' Then don't. We know.'

There was silence while Remus beamed up at his friends. There weren't three better friends in the world, and he wished he could tell them that. But then, he was grateful he didn't have to try to put it into words. They all grinned back at him, and he knew they understood.

' Anyway,' Sirius broke the moment by throwing a shirt at Remus. ' Put some clothes on, you filthy exhibitionist.'

**Okie-Dokie, Chapter two is up! Hooray! **

**I didn't want to beat around the bush with the animagi thing, so here it is. I mean, we all know it happens at some point anyway, why not the first month.**

**I also feel compelled to point out that my house has flooded. So I came to my lovely fathers house to finish this chapter for you, the delightful readers of this story. As it is, my dads heating is broken. So I am now sat with only my brothers hoodie keeping me alive, and my fingers frozen to the keyboard. **

**I hope you appreciate it! Reviews would be nice. Danke! **


	3. Of Bathrooms and Redheads

**Of Bathrooms and Redheads**

' C'mon Moony!' cried James. He was kneeling in front of Remus, who was sat in the comfy armchair in the corner of the common room, reading. Or he had been. ' I'm not asking you to be a part of it, I'm just…'

' … Asking me to aid and abet your illicit activities?' Remus finished.

James had the decency to blanch. Sirius, however, did not.

' Yeah,' he shrugged. ' Now that you mention it, that is exactly what we want.'

' I couldn't possibly just hand you my keys to the prefects bathroom,' Remus paused, and allowed a moment for the moans and groans and all out indignant cries. Then he finished, ' But, I can hardly be held responsible for what you did if, say, I accidentally left them on the table by the portrait hole.'

' Oh, Moony!' James started.

' You're brilliant!' Sirius continued. ' Absolutely fucking…'

' Brilliant!' They both finished, grinning.

' No, no, no!' Remus said, waving his arms about his head as if to swat the words away. ' Nothing brilliant about it! Careless! Forgetful! And… And woefully ignorant!'

' Good enough for me,' Sirius said, pulling James up. Remus finally let his hands collapse back into the book laid across his lap. ' Now, come, Prongsie-wongs. We shall leave our studious, prefect friend to his harmless reading!'

Remus flushed a little. Sirius had made the declaration of innocence so loudly it might as well have been a signed confession. Remus barely managed to keep his face straight and - hopefully - disapproving until the pair turned away. Then he allowed himself a giggle, and immediately regretted it. He was still sore, and the movement made his ribs ache.

The black haired boys wandered away, muttering and snickering, Peter following close behind. They cackled as the grabbed the offending keys, scurrying out of the common room, and for a moment, Remus wondered what exactly he was enabling.

' No,' He assured himself. ' I don't want to know.'

' You don't sound to sure about that, Lupin,' a voice came from behind him. If voices could grin, this one most definitely was.

' Well I am,' came another, both softer and more stern. ' I certainly don't want to know.'

Dorcas Meadows sat on the chair arm utterly gracelessly, and ended up draped across Remus' lap. She was a pretty girl, if a little clumsy, with a mop of thick blonde hair. She was wearing a baggy muggle t-shirt and an apologetic smile. Lily Evans opted for the floor, crossing her legs beneath her and managing to look elegant, even in her dishevelled uniform.

Remus smiled at Lily, and Dorcas chose that moment to make herself more comfortable. She pressed against the aching muscles in his thigh, and an open cut on his stomach. He twitched back and winced a little, despite himself.

' Are you okay, Remus?' Lily asked, looking concerned.

' Yeah, I'm fine,' He started, but she raised an eyebrow and he added, ' Bit ill, that's all.'

' Rough night?' she said with a bit more understanding that comfortable. Remus just stared at her.

' So,' said Dorcas loudly, blundering through the moment. ' What're Dumb and Dumber up to now?'

She was scanning the room for James and Sirius, and - not for the first time - Remus wondered which of them was which.

' No idea,' he mumbled.

It wasn't a complete lie. He knew it had something to do with the prefects bathroom and, knowing Padfoot and Prongs, probably including a Slytherin or two. But they could be very original in their predictability, and they were nothing if not resourceful.

He realised he was frowning at the book, now more in Dorcas' lap than his own, and glanced back up at Lily. She gave him a tight, knowing smile. Hmm. This Lily Evans sees far too much.

' Oh,' Dorcas said, more than a little disappointed. ' I haven't seen them properly yet.'

By 'them, Remus knew, she meant 'him'. Sirius. It wasn't unusual for Sirius to have several girls fawning after him at any given time, but most got the message after a few weeks of being completely ignored. Dorcas, unfortunately, was not one of them.

She had harboured a significant crush on Sirius since the one time in first year he helped her through the portrait hole. As it turned out, she was very like him, all fun-loving trouble-making party animal Gryffindor. The difference being, not many girls were pranksters. And with well-mannered, studious friends like Lily and Mary Macdonald, Dorcas didn't really get the change to flex her mischief muscles unless Sirius asked her to help out.

' Don't worry about it,' he said. ' They always go a bit overboard the first few weeks. It's their way of showing how happy they are to be back. Their very inappropriate way.'

Lily laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh, It was a harsh, unforgiving sound. ' Like either of those idiots want to be here at all!'

Well, Remus thought. At least she doesn't see _everything._ Or she just chooses not to.

He, however, had had four years experience in the mater. The first year, he had pegged it down to settling in. Sirius had been excited to an annoying degree, goading James into what can only be described as enough mischief to make up for a particularly dull eleven-year-life. When it eased, he figured that was the end of that.

He had been wrong. Every year since, Sirius was giddy and excitable and a little irritating for the first few weeks and deflated and moody and very annoying for the last few weeks.

It was well known that Sirius didn't get on with his family. He was one of only three people in five generations not to be a Slytherin, and he was the only Gryffindor. Remus never mentioned it, of course, and neither did the other Marauders. And he certainly didn't mention it to Lily Evans, who harboured a particular aversion to all things James Potter or Sirius Black.

Realising he had been silent for much longer than socially acceptable, Remus muttered an agreement. Fortunately, she was distracted. Both of the aforementioned objects of her dislike had fallen through the portrait hole, sodden and dishevelled. They stumbled a few paces into the room, then collapsed in a heap of water and howling laughter.

' That's not good,' Dorcas commented from his lap, while Lily wasted no time marching towards the tangle of soaking limbs on the floor.

She looked particularly ferocious, Remus thought, with her red hair billowing behind her as she stomped forwards, hands on her hips. She had her back to him now, but Remus knew she was scowling with a vengeance.

' Shouldn't you be helping her?' Dorcas chirped up again, sliding onto the floor as if to add _I'm not stopping you._

' Probably,' Remus agreed, raising his book to eyelevel.

Lily was in full rant mode now. The words 'irresponsible', 'dangerous' and 'disgrace' were frequented.

' You aren't reading that, are you,' Dorcas said. It wasn't really a question.

' Not so much, no,' he admitted, peering over the book to examine the scene before him.

Sirius, for the most part, looked completely uninterested in Lily's rant. He looked positively bored, with the occasional chuckle as he recalled whatever horror they had inflicted upon the bathroom.

James was another matter completely. He was all out staring at Lily, not with his usual attempt at an innocent look amongst proclamations like 'you're over-reacting, it wasn't that bad!' or 'C'mon, Evans, where's your sense of humour?'. Rather, he was staring as though he had never before lain eyes on a woman. His eyes were wide, his jaw hanging slack. Remus suspected there may be drool.

Finally, Lily halted her rant long enough to regain some of her senses. He scowled at the boys before her one last time, then turned to the door.

' I'm going to get Professor McGonagall.'

' Shit,' Sirius said, loudly.

' Wow,' James muttered, staring at where the redhead had been stood moment before.

They had received a months worth of Saturday detentions, and been forced to clean up the corridors adjoining the bathroom without magic. Remus had been included in the later for his 'carelessness'.

And thus began the obsession of one James Potter for a certain Miss Lily Evans

**Okay, here's Chapter 3. Which took priority over my College work, mainly because I enjoy writing this more. **

**I am actually rather proud of this. I'm usually terrible at writing normal scenes, just people hanging out and the like. But the banter here is slightly less terrible than normal, so yay for me. **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews make me smile! Danke!**


	4. Dedication and the Dark Arts

**Dedication and the Dark Arts**

The weeks flew by as the term got going. The constant pressure on the fifth years was building to a dangerous levels as the reality of OWLs crept in. James, however, had more important things occupying his mind.

Important things like how red hair looked like fire when the sun hit it just right. Or how brightly green eyes could reflect the candlelight in the Great Hall. Or how beautifully freckles complimented that wonderfully pale ski…

His train of thought skidded to a jerking halt when he received an elbow to the ribs. He glared at Sirius and the offending elbow on his left, then across to Remus and Peter on his right.

' You were drooling,' Remus explained, irritatingly calmly. ' And class is finished.'

' Hope they were good thoughts, at least,' Peter giggled. James scowled at him, dumping his books in his bag.

' I was thinking about freckles,' he said, with as much dignity as he could muster.

' Freckles?' Sirius questioned, incredulously.

' Yes,' James replied. ' They're very pretty.'

' Freckles, my dear deluded friend,' Sirius said, haughtily. ' Are an outward sign that the daft bint doesn't know when she's had enough sun. They're a malformity!'

' Malformation,' Remus corrected. ' Kind of like those inbred emotionally-stunted sociopaths.'

Sirius only managed half a glare before James decided he had insulted Lily and punched him. Hard. The older boy rubbed his arm dramatically and elaborately mouthed the word 'ouch'.

They sat down, and James realised they had somehow made it down to the Great Hall. As his friends tucked in to lunch, he glanced instinctively up and down the long table, scanning the benches for auburn.

' She's not here,' Peter said, grabbing at a bread roll.

' Don't know what you mean,' James sniffed.

' Yeah, Pete,' Sirius started. ' Not like he's done nothing but stare at her for the past five weeks.'

' That's not true,' Peter replied, casually. ' Sometimes he's thinking about her instead.'

' I do… Do not… Not _all_ the… I…' James spluttered over their cackling laughter.

' James,' Remus said, annoyingly reasonable, as always. ' Remember last Thursday? You didn't notice when Professor Binns - who had been perfectly corporeal for Wednesdays lesson - floated opaquely into the classroom. Through the back wall.'

' Yes, as a matter of fact,' James started, before the words sank in. ' I… Hang on. What?'

' Binns. Ghost. History of Magic. You know.'

' Very nicely summarised there, Pete.'

' Really?' James asked, actually forgetting about Lily for a moment. ' He died?'

' Yep,' said Sirius, a little to cheerfully for someone discussing death. ' They say he fell asleep in the staffroom, woke up and came to class without his body. Pretty cool, really. Shame he's such a boring person. Or thing, now, I guess.'

' Wow,' James said, intending to follow it with _That's dedication for you._ He didn't get the chance. At that moment the object of his desire entered the Hall, and everything else paled in comparison. He didn't even register the scolding his brain gave him for thinking a phrase like 'the object of my desire'.

After another Twenty minutes staring down the table, and then a very pleasurable walk to the fourth floor behind a certain trail of fiery hair, something finally pulled James back to reality.

Rather than the hulking figure of Professor Robinson - who was scared and muscled and tanned, and looked entirely like he had been carved from an oak tree - they were met by a solemn looking Dumbledore.

' In you come,' he said, calmly polite.

The class, made up of the Gryffindors and Slytherins, filed silently into the room. They sat in their usual places, split perfectly down the middle of the room, and avidly gazed at their Headmaster.

' Now,' He said, in his quietly commanding voice. ' Professor Robinson has had an unfortunate family emergency, and will not be able to continue to teach you Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

There was a collective sighing groan from the class. Robinson had been a good teacher, if a little scary. But that's what you want in a Defence teacher, James thought. A big, scary unpredictable man with a terrible temper and amazing power.

' As such,' Dumbledore continued, and the class fell silent again. ' I have been very fortunate in finding you a replacement.'

A small woman stepped around the Headmaster, smiling. She was young and pretty, with blonde hair that was mostly pulled into a small, lopsided knot that the top of her head. Loose strands fell in her face, but her thick rimmed glasses kept them from her eyes. She grinned and waved at them, despite standing only feet away.

' This is Professor Leila Knox. She will be taking care of all your defensive needs for the remainder of the year. I do hope you enjoy her, and,' he gave a significant nod towards James' desk, ' Play nicely.'

James tried to look innocent, shooting a look at Sirius, and finding the same _Who, me?_ expression on his face. When he looked back to the front, Dumbledore and his accusations were gone.

' Leila Knox?' James heard Peter mutter loudly. ' If you say it fast it sounds like one of Snivellus' potions.'

' Now then,' the woman said, clapping her hands together. ' You're going to show me what you can do. Up you get.'

The class stood slowly, hesitantly. Robinson had never been a very practical kind of teacher. When everyone was out of their chairs, Knox flicked her wand and all the furniture was flung to the edges of the room. James risked an impressed glance at his friends, who all looked similarly taken aback.

' That's pretty impressive, miss,' someone called.

' You a Pureblood? Never heard of the Knox Family,' someone else continued. James recognised the voices of Avery and Mulciber, two Slytherin boys.

' That's because I'm muggle-born,' she said, clearly and calmly. ' I'm a mud blood.'

Everyone gasped again, but not for the same reasons. The Slytherins were almost all from Pureblood families, and were rather shocked at having a teacher essentially ostracise herself. The Gryffindor half were stunned at how easily she used the term meant to offend her.

' That aside, who can tell me what you've learned so far this year? Yes, miss…?'

' Evans. Lily. We've been learning about stunning and shield charms. Only… Well, we've never done them practically.'

' That's okay, we'll remedy that in no time. Who'd like to demonstrate?'

Mulciber was muttering away now, looking angry. James caught snippets like 'far too simple' and 'what's she playing at'. Knox picked him out. He smirked as he took up his position opposite her.

' Would you like to stun or defend, Mr…?'

' Mulciber,' he said, shortly. ' I'll stun.'

' Very well,' she replied, apparently unfazed by the wickedness in his slimy voice. ' On three. One… Two…'

' Stupefy!' the boy yelled, viciously.

The room seemed to freeze for a moment as everyone took a sharp breath. It was broken when Mulciber was thrown backwards, slamming to the floor with a sickening crack. James winced. He's been a professional trouble-maker long enough to have done a few fairly stupid things, and he knew the sound of a broken bone when he heard it. The boy groaned, clutching his arm, but nobody paid him any attention.

' You…' someone stammered at the teacher. ' But… You didn't _say_ anything.'

' No,' she replied simply. ' I suppose I didn't. And that is a very valuable advantage in a duel. But first we need to become proficient in casting verbal spells properly. Pair up.'

James shuffled closer to Sirius, who was grinning unashamedly at the whimpering figure on the floor.

' And you,' Knox pointed at Avery. ' Take your friend up to the Hospital Wing.'

Her tone left the words _And don't bother bringing him back today_ hanging in the air.

' She's brilliant,' Sirius whispered, excitedly.

James could only nod.

**Okay, here be Chapter Four. **

**Firstly, a big thank you to the people who reviewed! It makes me all tingly inside! Thank you very much! Danke shern! Merci becoup! **

**Secondly, I am English and Northern. Thus, Leila is pronounced Lay-lah. Not Lie-lah. Okay, good.**

**I wanted to do a James-centric chapter because I felt like I hadn't included him so much yet and, I mean, he was the leader of the gang. So the injustice had been righted! Hoorah! **

**Sorry, I'm done now. It is late and I am giddy. Thanks for reading, reviews make me smile. Danke shern! **


	5. A Boring Day in October

**A Boring Day in October**

On the morning of October the Twenty-Forth Sirius Black woke up uncharacteristically early. He didn't roll over and curse his bladder for disturbing him, which would have been silly considering that wasn't the reason. He didn't groan or kick off his sheets in a huff or any of the things he usually did in the mornings. Instead, he grinned.

He glanced to the small window by his bed and even the murky grey-blue darkness that greeted him didn't ruin his mood. He squinted around the dim room to get his bearings before he moved - slowly to prevent his mattress from creaking as he moved to the edge of his bed. He crouched down, paused to take a breath, them hurled himself across the chasm between his own bed and the one to his left, landing heavily on overly long legs.

Impressively, there wasn't so much as an irritable mumble before the beaming grin and messy hair appeared in the darkness. This was the one day of the year that Sirius was glad James Potter was a morning person.

' Alright, Birthday Boy!' He practically shouted, shoving Sirius off his knees. ' What time do you call this? It's nearly half five!'

' He needs his beauty sleep,' Remus yawned from somewhere to the right.

' Bollocks,' Sirius declared. ' I look this good without trying.'

James wiggled out from beneath Sirius and moved to Peters bed. He prodded the smaller boy, who protested with a few muffled squeaking sounds. Remus had dragged himself clear of his own beds curtains and was settling to sit on the end on Sirius'. He glanced down at the neat pile of presents stacked on the floor just in front of him.

Sirius made what he hoped was a manly exclamation, but feared probably came out more like a girly shriek, and dived at the gifts. He misjudged the distance rather severely, and slammed into the hard wood of the bed frame, knocking the brightly wrapped packages flying into the air.

' Bugger,' he muttered, pulling himself up just in time to catch Remus rolling his eyes. ' I hope you didn't get me anything breakable.'

' Not bloody likely,' Peter grumbled, as James dragged him from under his warm blankets.

' Nah,' James agreed, giving the blond an encouraging prod. ' We aren't that daft, Padfoot! We've known you five years!'

' We know better than to give you anything less than robust,' Remus finished, passing him a perfectly wrapped rectangular parcel tied neatly with string. ' That's mine.'

' Never have guessed,' Pete muttered grumpily, plonking himself on the mattress behind the werewolf.

Sirius took the gift from his friend. It was solid and heavy. He furrowed his brow.

' A book?' His voice only sounded half as disappointed as he felt, but he regretted saying it anyway.

Remus didn't flinch, his expression staying the same calm smile as always. ' Open it.'

Sirius shrugged and tugged at the corner of the paper. He didn't unwrap it neatly, simply tearing as much of the paper off as he could in one swipe. It was wrapped twice, and he smirked at Remus' overly-cautiousness.

It was a book. Bound with old green leather and gold stitching around the edges. It was a bit worn in places, and smelled musty. Pressed into the front where the neat, gold copperplate letters spelling out _Quidditch Through the Ages. _Then underneath, smaller, _First Edition. _

' Erm, thanks.'

' You're an idiot,' Remus said, rolling his eyes again. ' Open it.'

Sirius rested his thumb against the page edges and flicked it slightly open, glimpsing a few pages as they skittered by, before it closed again. It looked perfectly normal, if a little too full of tiny spindly writing he knew he'd never have the patience to read. He raised his eyebrow at the boy on his bed.

' Page four.'

' The acknowledgements?'

' Yeah.'

' Eticer 'Em' Libra and Kaeps 'Duola' Incarceconn.'

' Close the book. Touch the top of the spine with your wand, and say those surnames as you bring it down to the bottom.'

Sirius spared an exasperated look for his friend, but followed the instructions. Feeling a bit daft, he placed his wand at the top and mumbled ' _Libra Incarceconn.' _As he moved his wand down the spine, he got a tingly feeling in his fingers, but nothing happened to the book.

' Open it again,' Remus said, pre-empting the question.

He did, and instead of the overflowing pages there was now a distinct hole in the book, bigger than it had any right to be and completely undetectable from the outside. He felt his eyebrows jump up his forehead and his chin fall to his chest.

His brain frantically tried to think of something to say. Some way of expressing how much it meant to him. The gift, their friendship, the gesture in general. Everything.

' You're most welcome, Padfoot,' Remus said, grinning at his bewildered look. ' You really thought I'd get _You _a book? Please.'

The others laughed, and Sirius was glad he didn't have to try to express his gratitude for the gift, or apologies for his rudeness.

He continued ripping into his presents. He received more than his fair share of Zonko products from James, and a whole Honeydukes shelf worth of sweets from Peter. As usual his mother had sent nothing, nor had his brother after their fight over summer. He should have expected it, but it still caused a slight stinging sensation in his chest.

His cousin Andromeda sent him a muggle card with love from her husband Ted and their daughter, neither of which he had met. He placed it proudly on his bedside table, next to the muggle sweets his Uncle Alphard had sent. The foursome proceeded to wrestle each other back to their beds then, seeing as it was a Saturday, slept until noon.

When they finally made their way down to the Great Hall for some well deserved lunch, Sirius began to get suspicious. James and Remus were unusually quiet, and kept exchanging small smirks and amused glances. When they walled through the huge doors of the Hall, all became clear.

The tables were full to breaking point of nothing but cake. Chocolate cake, Victoria cake, Carrot cake, Cream cakes - everything sweet and sickly and covered in sugar and icing. Sirius swallowed to stop himself from drooling. His eyes flickered to the ceiling. It was overcast with grey clouds and threatening rain, as could be expected for October in Scotland, but just below that majesty of magic was a much simpler enchantment that drew his gaze.

The hundreds of candles that normally spread across the vast space had been arranged to spell out the words 'Help Yourselves' in huge glowing letters. Over towards the Slytherin end of the room were smaller words - 'Go on. You know you want to'.

Sirius started to laugh. This was great. But his thoughts were interrupted by a huge exploding _splat_ sound that echoed through the hall, cutting across the chattering students. At the Hufflepuff Table Benny Abbot, a small plump boy with sandy hair and baby-blue eyes, had attempted to cut a cake. Clearly it had protested to such treatment, and imploded.

This time, Sirius couldn't stop the laughter if he wanted to. Benny looked like a toddler - covered in cake and icing, eyes wide with shock, glancing around the room waiting for someone to swoop down and punish him.

The whole room erupted into noise again when a Gryffindor third-year decided to test the charm by trying a different cake. This one, too, expanded and the burst like a balloon, covering the boy and his neighbours in chocolate sponge. A rebellious Ravenclaw followed suit, and soon the puddings were splattering left right and centre.

Sirius turned to his friends, beaming with delight, and them jumped at them and pulled them into a hug. It lasted only a few seconds, then he shoved James into the table to their left, where he landed in a Devonshire split, and Pete to right, where he slipped in some jam and fell heavily on his arse.

' This is brilliant, Moony!' He said taking the other boy by the shoulders. Remus tried to look surprised at the credit he was being given, and failed only because of the twinkle in his eyes. ' Come on, I know these two Pillocks didn't research touch activated expanding charms! That's post-NEWT work.'

' Hm,' the werewolf replied, grinning. ' You have a point.'

Sirius looked back over his shoulder to further appreciate the chaos, then turned back to add another 'brilliant'. He didn't get the chance.

' This wouldn't be anything to do with you boys now, would it?'

Sirius looked up at the stern face of Minerva McGonagall, and put on his best smile.

' I don't know what you mean, Professor. We'd never do anything so daring. Or messy.'

' No. Not like the Jelly incident on your last birthday, Mr Black. Or the Great Jam Disaster the year before that. You are, of course, notorious for spending your birthday celebrating quietly in your dormitories.'

Without missing a beat Sirius stepped forward, only realising as he moved round him that he had turned Remus around, still clutching his shoulders, and had been using him effectively as a human shield. He made a mental note to apologise for it later, but he'd probably forget anyway. He stopped about a foot away from his Head of House, and gazed up at her slightly alarmed expression.

' You remembered my birthday,' He said, with what he hoped sounded like adoration. ' That's so sweet, Professor.'

' That is hardly the point, Mr Black,' she said, but he caught the pink flush creeping up her cheeks.

' You're right, of course,' he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand. ' This simply isn't the place, my love. Later. Punish me if you must!'

They had gathered rather a crowd, and McGonagall delicately cleared her throat and straightened her back ad she prised her hand away. ' Twenty points from Gryffindor,' she said, maintaining her dignity and most of her calm. ' And detention tomorrow afternoon, the four of you.'

' You're worth it,' Sirius stage whispered, leaning in a bit closer. The Professors cheeks were definitely stained red when she turned promptly on her heel and walked away.

' I can't believe you sometimes,' Remus mumbled from behind him.

Sirius shrugged. ' It worked didn't it.'

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the nearest bit of cake and stuffed it into his mouth. Marauder Birthdays are wonderful.

**Okay, here's the next chapter.**

**I'm sorry it's taken a few days, I've got a project due in on Monday so computer time has been a bit limited. I have got it all tonight though, so I am hoping to get another one up for you either tonight or tomorrow morning. **

**Anyway, this is chapter 5 and I was wondering what everyone thinks. Do the characters seem right? The group dynamic? And the format of the story itself, is it working for you?**

**Feedback keeps me going! Thanks for reading! Danke! Merci! Tak!**


	6. Remember, Remember Not to Get Caught

**Remember, Remember… Not to Get Caught**

' What are we doing up here?' Peter whined for the seventh time in ten minutes.

' Why'd you come if you're just going to moan, Wormtail!' James replied, also for the seventh time. ' It's Bonfire Night!'

' C'mon Pete!' Sirius yelled, ridiculously cheerfully. ' Get in the spirit of it! 'Remember, remember, The fifth of November' and all that. You're Muggle-born, you should know this!'

' My Mum's a witch!' Peter cried. ' She was Muggle-born, but she's still a witch!'

' Same difference,' Sirius decided, casually, over Peters continued protests.

Remus understood what was bothering the smaller boy. With all the rumours circulating about these 'Death Eaters' and their blood-politics, and the reported attacks on muggles becoming more frequent, people were getting twitchy about their heritage. But Sirius couldn't understand that in the least, and Remus didn't miss the irony in it. The Back Family name - the one he professed to despise, along with all it stood for - was the one thing keeping him from fully appreciating the building tensions in the wizarding world, and the sudden nervousness of anyone with even remotely questionable blood-ties.

Remus decided not to mention it, instead wondering aloud, ' Why do you two celebrate it?'

' It's a bloody brilliant Muggle holiday!' James said, by way of explanation.

' Have you seen what they can do?' Sirius enthused waving his hand at the sky completely unnecessarily. ' Without Magic,' he added, for good measure.

Remus had to admit the view was spectacular from their vantage point atop the astronomy tower. Fireworks were being let off right on the edge of the grounds, and the sky was alight with every colour. The night was cold, the grass glittering with a coating of frost, and the sky was clear. Unusual for this time of year, but perfect for watching things explode at a distance.

' Ah,' he said, rubbing his hands together in a bid to retain some semblance of feeling in them. ' I should've known it was for the pretty lights.'

' It's a bit weird though, isn't it?' came a quiet voice, and three set of eyes turned questioningly towards Peter. ' Wizards celebrating a Muggle burning.'

The thought had struck Remus before. In their third year, in fact, when James and Sirius had created a miniature bonfire for the common room complete with a Guy Fawkes enchanted to scream as he burned.

' Don't be daft, Pete! Good ol' Guy wasn't a wizard, was he?' Sirius said, still sounding awfully cheerful.

' And if he had been, he wouldn't have been caught, would he?' James put in.

Remus opened him mouth to recount the case of Wendelin the Weird, who liked being burned and let herself get captured repeatedly, but was stopped by a warning gesture from Sirius.

' And before you bring up reliable old Wendy,' James said, jovially. ' I'll amend my statement. If he'd been a wizard, he wouldn't of, y'know, died!'

' I still think it's weird,' Peter reiterated.

Remus agreed with the mousy boy. It was odd seeing two Pureblood wizards so happy about something the muggles probably did to their families. But Remus decided he may very well be bias when it came to unnecessary prejudices against people who were slightly different, and let the subject drop.

A silence fell between them that was both comfortable and disconcerting, so rare were the moments that not a single one of them had anything to say. It was a little awkward and, Remus thought, intimate. Maybe that was just because he couldn't understand the boyish ease with which Sirius draped his arms around his friends as he did now.

The quiet made it strangely difficult to keep track of time, and Remus didn't know how long they were stood like that before the colour display in the sky dwindled. Finally Sirius sighed and pulled out his pocket watch.

' Wow,' he said, stretching his back until something cracked. ' We'd bettered head back.'

The others muttered their assent, and started down the winding stairs of the tower. At the bottom, Peter transformed and the rat was gently placed in Remus' breast pocket, then James handed Remus his invisibility cloak. The theory was that, should they be seen, the two black-haired boys had been caught out of bed after-hours enough times to warrant only minimal suspicion and or punishment. Remus couldn't remember agreeing to this plan but James' face told him not to argue now, so he disappeared under the silvery fabric.

Unfortunately, they had to go down to go back up to Gryffindor tower at the other side of the castle. They made it down to the fourth floor with only a quick detour to avoid Filch, who was searching classrooms. Then everything went terribly and drastically wrong.

As they mounted the stairs to the fifth floor Defence Against the Dark Arts corridor, they caught a glimpse of hunched angular figure in dark robes leaving a classroom, easing the door shut with pale spindly fingers.

' Snivellus?'

Remus cursed under his breath, and Peter shuffled uncomfortably against his chest.

It hadn't been Sirius who had given away their position so carelessly, but James.

Snape jumped, his gangly limbs jerking, his black eyes twitching in search of the danger. He spotted James and his face flickered with shock and fear for a moment before he realised where they were - an empty corridor in the dead of night, completely unsupervised. His thin face twisted into a sneer, and Remus could only think 'bugger'.

' Potter. Wandering the corridors alone,' he said it silkily, but there was a hint of hopefulness. ' What are you doing?'

' Who said he was alone?' Sirius said, stepping out from behind James.

' Should've guessed. Forever joined at the hip.'

' It's called having friends,' James said, coldly, and Remus knew he would have his fist curled tightly around his wand in his pocket. ' Not an art you've quite mastered though is it, Snivelly.'

' That why you wouldn't tell me where you were?' Snape spat. ' Lovers tryst?'

James raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the insult. Sirius grinned.

' Yeah,' he said, slinging his arm around his best friends shoulders. ' That's exactly what it is. And clearly nobody'd want to drag you into an empty room to cop a feel, even in the dark, so what're you sneaking about for?'

Snape had drawn his wand now, and held it loosely but readily. ' I don't see how that's any of your business, Black.'

Both Gryffindor boys were itching for an excuse to whip out their own wands and cast the first hex that sprang to mind, so Remus backed out of the firing range. He kept his eyes on the scene though, and walked straight into a door with a loud _thunk._ Fortunately Snape didn't notice. The same could not be said for the occupant of the room.

Remus heard the soft footfalls just in time to avoid being hit by the door as it swung open. He had sudden vision of Professor McGonagall with a face like a thunderstorm, or Dumbledore and his disappointed expression. What he was actually confronted with was the amused smile of Professor Knox.

The fighting boys hadn't noticed her, so she cleared her throat and said gently, ' If I'm not interrupting, gentlemen.'

They froze so suddenly it was almost comical. Remus bit his tongue in an effort not to laugh.

' Care to explain,' she said lightly. It wasn't a question.

Snape merely gaped at her, not even lowering his wand. James and Sirius knew better, and put on their best winning smiles.

' Having a grope, miss. Terribly sorry, just can't keep my hands off him,' Sirius said fluently and casually. Then he grimaced, eyes flickering to the third boy in the corridor, and added, ' James. Not… that.'

' Hm,' she said, pleasantly. ' And you, Mr Snape.'

' Studying,' he mumbled, waving a potions book at her vaguely.

' I'm sure,' she said quietly, then paused. ' I'll have ten points from each of you, for being out of bed. And another ten from you, Mr Snape, for having your wand drawn on another student. Now off to bed with you.'

The oily boy took his chance and disappeared into the darkness of the staircase. Padfoot and Prongs stayed where they were.

' He's lying,' Sirius said, adamantly.

' You don't believe him do you, Professor?' James asked, remembering he was talking to a teacher, and one that could give them a detention for any number of reasons, but hadn't. Yet.

' Not in the least,' she replied, keeping her voice even. ' Unlike your own story, which is remarkably believable.'

Once again, Remus bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. He received the sharp metallic taste of blood for his troubles, but it wouldn't do to give away his position now. James and Sirius both had their mouths open to press their point, but Knox held up her hand to stop them.

' I assure you, I am perfectly capable of assessing students intentions,' she said, patiently. ' I will keep an eye on Mr Snape. This isn't your concern. You two should be in bed. Go on.'

Sirius looked like he wanted to protest further, but James grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the dorm.

' You don't want to know what he's up to?' Sirius asked, one they were out of earshot.

' Of course I do,' James replied. ' But we don't need a teacher knowing what we're doing!'

' What are you goi… Oh,' realisation flickered across Sirius' face, followed by a satisfied smirk.

' If they don't know, they can't stop us. We'll…'

' Prefect, remember,' Remus put in.

The boys communicated silently all the way back to the dorm, then shut themselves in James four poster and silenced it.

Remus groaned, and knew he was going to regret whatever came of this.

**Sorry this took longer than expected, deadlines to meet and such. But here's chapter 6. I've been working on my plan for the whole story, too. So hopefuly it'll flow okay.**

**I've been review starved lately! It makes for difficult motivating. Please let me know what you think. **

**Thank you for reading, once again!**


	7. Of Love and War and OneEyed Witches

**Of Love and War and One-Eyed Witches**

The weeks into December passed in a blur of stalking and rushed last-minute homework assignments. James was still shadowing Lily, but it was now second priority behind finding out what Snape was up to. Sirius had also taken up 'Snape Stalking', as Remus liked to call it, and he assumed that was where the dark-haired Marauders were now.

Remus himself was sat in the Great Hall. It was snowing heavily as Christmas approached, so the hall was opened to students between mealtimes as a study space. Remus was trying to explain the principle exceptions to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration, for the hundredth time, to Peter. Dorcas was sat opposite them, pointedly ignoring her potions essay in favour of giggling at Remus' efforts.

' … Unless you've already got something to transfigure, It just isn't going to work. You could always summon something, instead.'

' So I can't magic up cake from nowhere?' Peter asked again.

' No,' Remus replied, as calmly as he could. Dorcas snorted into her hand.

' That's a shame. What about…'

Fortunately for Remus' sanity, Peter didn't get to ask the same cycle of three questions again for a different foodstuff. A very deflated looking James suddenly appeared from under his invisibility cloak right behind Peter, making the smaller boy squeal in surprise.

' Ah, James,' Dorcas said, seemingly oblivious to the boy appearing from thin air right in front of her. ' Maybe you can help Pete understand that he can't just magic up food.'

James merely grunted, sinking into his seat. Sirius joined them, not looking nearly as agitated, and answering Dorcas' plea.

' Don't worry about it, Pete, just go to the kitchens.'

' I suppose,' he said, crestfallen. Then he pointed to James and asked, ' What's up with him?'

' Lost Snivellus. Again,' He explained.

' You don't seem terribly bothered by it,' Remus observed.

Sirius just shrugged. ' Getting a bit dull. We've been following the slime ball for over a month…'

' And nothing!' James wailed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically and then letting them slap back into his lap.

Remus was rather glad of this development. Sirius had developed a habit of hexing Snape at ever opportunity, and was becoming increasingly cruel. Remus suspected this was the eldest marauders reaction to Snapes new shadow - Regulus, Sirius' little brother. This, Remus could almost understand. Unfortunately, James had also adopted the same attitude of unnecessary cruelty, without much of a reason.

It was only a matter of time, Remus knew, when you followed someone so closely, before you discovered something you really didn't need to know.

He opened his mouth to say 'good', but was beaten to it. By Peter, of all people.

' Good. You've been horrid to him lately, for no good reason. It's not like he's done anything.'

Remus frowned, feeling more than a little ashamed that Peter had said something while he sat there silent. Peter, who was neither a prefect, nor a person particularly comfortable with criticising Padfoot and Prongs.

_Well done, Remus,_ he thought. _So much for that Gryffindor bravery._

Sirius and James were both glaring at Peter with a bizarre mixture of being impressed he had spoken against them, and appalled at the suggestion that there was such a thing as _too cruel_ when it came to Snape.

' He's right,' Dorcas said, before either boy could recover enough to speak. ' Not to mention how boring you two are at the moment.'

' Boring!' James shouted, all other concerns forgotten.

' Yeah,' she said simply, not looking up from her essay, which she was suddenly pouring over.

' Us?' he reiterated, gesturing to himself and Sirius for emphasis. ' Boring?'

' No,' She deadpanned. ' The other James Potter and Sirius Black at Hogwarts, spending more time staring at slimy little Slytherins than, say, Marauding.'

It was strange hearing someone else use James name for it, but it seemed to trigger something.

' Well, Prongs, we can't be letting the side down, can we?'

' Certainly not, Padfoot,' James concluded.

They headed out of the Hall, whispering conspiringly. Dorcas bit her lip in her effort to keep her expression impassive, and Remus noticed Peters mouth twitching at the corners.

' What have you done?' he asked, raising his eyebrow at them.

' Nothing,' Dorcas insisted, but she couldn't keep the tremor of suppressed laughter from her voice.

Remus turned to Peter, who wasn't managing nearly as well. He was sniggering, despite biting down on the inside of his cheek, and his eyes were watering. Remus gave him a pointed look, and gestured for him to say something. He shook his head, though, and then covered his face with his hands.

' Come on, then,' Dorcas said, stuffing her books into her bag and standing. ' We don't want to miss it.'

Remus sighed, grabbing his own work as Peter pulled him up. He was dragged to the entrance hall where a crowd was gathering, already shouting and cheering and heckling. It was a familiar sound this close to Christmas, and Remus groaned.

' Tell me you didn't?'

Peter only gave a sheepish little shrug, so Dorcas replied.

' Not particularly original, but it's seasonal. And it should provoke a reaction, retaliation. Then things will get interesting.'

As they moved further into the Hall, the two black-haired boys came into view on the second floor moving staircase. As predicted, hovering above them - and shouting loudly - was a ridiculously inflated piece of mistletoe.

Remus could see that the boys were talking, but he couldn't hear them over the clamouring students. He didn't really need to, if he was honest. He could read their movements well enough after four years of mischief.

Sirius was grinning. His eyes flickered from the plant above them to the crowd below. _C'mon Prongs, we've got an audience. Can't disappoint._

James quickly scanned the nearest faces, looking worried, then back at Sirius, brow furrowed. _What if Evans sees?_

Sirius' eyebrows shot up his forehead, disappearing into his fringe. _Like she's never seen it before._

Remus knew Sirius would be thinking of the House-wide game of Truth or Dare in the third year, when Lily's friends Mary had issued the order herself. Though there were several other instances where the boys had been caught in compromising positions, much to Peter and Remus' amusement.

James strugged for a minute, probably thinking the same things. He glanced around the room once more, then grinned at his best friend. _Oh, go on then. Seeing as how you can't resist me._

Sirius smirked wickedly. _If we're going to do this, we're going to make it good._

James rolled his eyes, smirked back and gave a little nod. _Of course we are, We're Marauders! _

Then the pair turned to the crowd, and the renewed cheers and cat-calls, and took a bow.

' Oh God,' Remus mumbled to himself, then turned to Dorcas. ' I hope you're happy.'

She shrugged, grinning, the cheered with the rest of the student-body as the boys on the balcony drew together.

If there had been any doubt about Remus Lupins ability to read his friends, it was gone now. When Sirius Black went for something, he really went for it.

To everyone in the hall it would look like an incredibly passionate kiss. They had their hands entwined in each others hair, eyes closed tightly and were showing no inclination that this wasn't perfectly commonplace in the privacy of their dorm.

Remus knew though. He knew they each held the other boys neck to stop either one from backing out once they'd started. He knew they were both grinning like idiots, biting back laughter as the crowd reacted. And he knew hey weren't looking at each other because, even in the most innocent of situations, that usually led to unrestrained fits of spontaneous giggles.

In fact, the one thing Remus couldn't rationalise was the rather excessive amount of tongue involved.

The cheers continued for several more minutes, amongst some disconcerting cries of 'we knew it' and 'about time', until several teachers were attracted by the noise. A highly amused Knox and a twinkle-eyed Dumbledore dispersed the gathered students, while a red-faced McGonagall hurriedly shrank the screaming shrub back to it's original size and dispelled the enchantment giving it a voice.

A very flustered lecture followed, during which both boys continuously giggled at their Head of House's unusual embarrassment, before she gave it up as a bad job and stalked away mumbling to herself about the stress of it all.

Remus fought his way through the stragglers in the hall, up the stairs to where his roommates had been standing. When he finally got up to the third floor, he found only a very amused looking Sirius.

' Where's Prongs got to now?' He asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

' Spotted Snivelly slinking off to the dungeons while everyone was enjoying the show.'

' You know, Padfoot. One of these days he's going to regret this,' Remus groaned.

' Come off it, Moony. What harm could possible come of a bit of friendly stalking?'

Remus didn't get chance to answer that painfully open question. A shout echoed up from the dungeons staircase, followed by the distinctive _bang _and _fizzle _of a spell rebounding off something solid. Remus managed to scan the Hall for teachers, finding it mercifully empty, before the shouting came closer.

Sirius leaned over the banister and swore loudly before turning to point at Remus and saying sternly, ' Don't.'

Remus took it as fair warning, and bit back his comment, when he too peered down and saw the figures of James and Snape edging up the stairs in duelling stance, wands trained on each other.

Then something completely unexpected happened. Lily Evans also immerged from the dungeons, arms flailing about as her high voice joined the boys shouts. Sirius darted down the stairs to help James, cursing as he went. Remus stepped out of view.

He felt like a coward, but he didn't have a choice.

He could step up and help his friends, as loyalty dictated, and be landed in detention for the rest of the year with them, stripped of all privileges. Or he could take the prefects stance and help Lily put his friends in detention, something they would make his life hellish for. Or he could leave now, and pretend this never happened.

He hadn't realised he was still moving backwards until he felt the cool stone against his back. He turned to see the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, a witch with one-eye and a humpback. He could hear the shouting on the stairs drawing nearer, including Lily's increasingly high pitch, and made the decision unconsciously.

He slid behind the statue and, finding himself in near-complete darkness, cast a muttered _lumos. _The space was bigger than it should have been, hidden behind a statue as it was. Remus crouched down, hoping it made him less visible.

As the light shifted he caught sight of a strangely shaped shadow on stone. On closer examination he found a tiny carving of a word. Holding his wand up to make it out, he muttered aloud, '_ Dissendium.'_

Much to his surprise, the witches hump slid open to reveal a dark passageway. It was small, but he was fairly certain he'd be able to squeeze through it.

_Not that you want to, _the Prefect in him scolded.

_Bollocks I don__'t, _the Marauder replied.

Before he could act on either, though, the shouting was suddenly right on top of him. He peered round the statue and saw Sirius backing down the corridor, James just in front. He distinctly heard Lily cry something that sounded remarkably like, ' That's it. I'm getting a teacher.'

' Bugger,' Remus muttered to himself, before poking his head round the statue once more and calling in a hushed voice, ' Oi, Pads. Padfoot!'

' Moony?' the boy called back. ' You hiding, you coward! Where's that Gryffindor spirit?'

' Shut up, you idiot. Distract Snape and get Prongs over here, quick.'

The boy did as he was asked, casting several spells that ended in loud bangs and lots of smoke, then dragging James down the corridor. When they were near enough, Remus grabbed them and pulled them into the nook. Both boys gaped at the hole, visibly startled.

' Don't just stare at it,' Remus urged, pushing James forward. ' Get in.'

The skinny boy did so without protest or difficulty, and Remus gestured for Sirius to do the same.

' Don't think so Moons,' he said, shoving the smaller boy towards the statue. ' Don't want you backing out last minute. In you go.'

Remus caught the sound of nearing footsteps and didn't hesitate, throwing himself down what turned out to be a bit like a stone slide. He landed hard on the soft earth and scrambled to his feet just in time to avoid being landed on by Sirius, who gracefully stepped into the tunnel.

' Wow,' James said, lifting his wand to cast light as wide as was possible in the small space. ' Where do you think it goes?'

' I'll find out,' Sirius said, stepping forward and transforming into the familiar black dog. He barked excitedly, then bounded down the tunnel at breakneck pace.

' Sometimes I think he's a bit too eager to do that,' Remus noted.

James snorted in agreement. ' He makes a better dog than he does a person. All that slobber.'

He mock shuddered, and Remus laughed. ' You didn't have to kiss him.'

' Hm. But that wouldn't have been any fun at all. Who was it?'

' Pete and Cassy. They're spending a lot of time together lately. Speaking of which, what did you go to the dungeons for?'

James' face darkened, like he was trying to suppress a terrible trauma. ' I saw Evans go down there. With _him._'

' Well yeah,' Remus replied softly, trying not to upset the messy-haired boy. ' They are friends.'

' You knew about this?' James shouted. Clearly he had failed.

' Yeah. They meet in the library a lot. You never noticed, Prongs? In five years, you've never noticed?'

James struggled with this for a long moment, seemingly bothered by his lack of knowledge on the girl he was trying to win. Remus waited for the yelling to continue, as it surely would.

Before James gathered his bearings, though, the huge shaggy black dog leapt out of the shadows and bowled Remus over. It licked his face enthusiastically a few times, then turned back into grinning boy.

' You, Messer Moony, are a genius! Fucking brilliant! I take back everything I ever said against you.' Then he looked up at a bewildered looking James and explained, ' It leads to Honeydukes. The Cellar!'

James jaw literally dropped, all thoughts of Snape and Lily gone. His eyes lit up as the cogs in his head worked furiously to decide the best use of this knowledge.

Sirius , who was still perched in Remus' stomach, grabbed the werewolf's face and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on his forehead. Then he jumped up and started plotting with James.

Remus blinked, still on the ground. He felt his cheeks burning, and told himself the flush was one of pride - he had after all, found this passage that was getting his fellows so excited.

It was not an entirely convincing argument.

**Wow, this chapter is long. Hope you enjoyed it. Probably not the kiss you were expecting, but there you are. Hah hah! I like to tease. **

**Seriously though, I think this couple are perfect together, and you don't get that without being really good friends first. Hence all the build up. I promise you, the romance is coming. It's just running a bit late.**

**Thank you for reading, Reviews make me smile. Danke!**


	8. The Brothers Black

_**The Brothers Black**_

Marlene McKinnon was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and a girl Remus had long since decided to avoid at all costs. Not once in four and a half years had they engaged in a conversation which did not involve her shouting - mainly because she came to him when she couldn't find James or Sirius.

Today was no exception.

' Where the_ Hell_ are they?' she bellowed across the common room, startling a group of nearby second-years and frightening some first-year boys back up the stairs to their dorm. ' Don't you understand how _important_ this is?'

_No, _he thought. _Not in the least. _

' Of course I do,' he said, politely. ' And I don't know where they are. Haven't seen them since this morning.'

He looked across the Muggle chess set at Peter for confirmation, support, anything. But the sandy haired boy's brain seemed to have melted in the presence of the tumultuous brunette athlete, and he was staring determinedly at his idle bishop. Remus smiled back up at Marlene, trying not to sigh in exasperation.

' When you find them,' she told him in a threatening tone that clearly said she thought he knew exactly where they were, ' send them straight down to the pitch. We are going to beat those snakes this year if it kills me.'

For a few moments, she was muttering more to herself than anyone else. Then she remember Remus - who knew better than to turn away mid-rant - and raised her voice as she added, ' Understand, Lupin?'

' Yes, ma'am,' he replied, but she had already stormed away to harass Jim Hartley on the whereabouts of his girlfriend Paula Burghs, their third-year beater.

Peter had just about recovered his wits enough to make another move, and reached for his knight, when Sirius leapt up from behind the armchair the smaller boy was occupying. Peter fell out of said chair with a squeal, landing heavily on the carpeted floor, and Sirius took his place, drawing his legs up under himself and resting his chin on the chair arm.

' You are such a dog,' Remus informed him.

He grinned, then pouted. ' So I like curling up on the furniture, big deal. Or are you going to smack my nose and tell me I've been bad?'

Remus snorted at the image. ' I meant hiding behind the furniture to avoid Marlene. Stupid Mutt.'

' Hiding?' he said, affronted. ' I'd never do something so…'

' Cowardly?' Peter supplied, having finally pulled himself into sitting position. ' Childish, girly? Ooh, better yet. Something so _Slytherin_.'

' I was just going to go with pathetic,' Remus said, impressed. ' But you're on a roll, Wormtail.'

' How about abysmally emasculate?'

' Very good. How do you know what that means?'

' I don't,' the mousy boy admitted. ' Heard Evans say it to Prongs once.'

_Ah, that explains it, _Remus thought, laughing.

' I'll have to thank her for that,' Sirius mumbled, trying his best to look as offended as possible.

' That look doesn't suit you,' Remus told him, and he smiled instead.

' Is that where he's gotten to, then?' Peter asked. ' After Evans?'

' Of course. Poor Prongsie can't let it drop.'

By 'it' Sirius meant Lily and Snapes friendship. James had taken it as a personal blow. Quite rightly, Sirius assured Remus, since the girl of his dreams wouldn't look at him twice, but happened to be close friends with his enemy. Sirius himself didn't seem bothered at all by the notion, which surprised Remus more than he liked to admit.

' You took it very well, Pads,' Peter once again spoke Remus' thoughts.

The older boy only shrugged. ' I have a better memory than antler-boy.'

Remus blinked, then glanced sideways at Pete to find him with the same blank look on his face. Then the smaller boy said, very eloquently, ' Eh?'

' Didn't we ever tell you?' Sirius said, sounding genuinely surprised. ' We met them on the train, very first day of school. Old Snivelly was pally with our Evans before they even came to Hogwarts.'

' Oh,' was all Remus could think to say.

' Didn't you ever wonder why Evans hated us from the start, at the Feast?'

' Not really,' Remus answered, honestly. ' I assumed you'd upset her on the train. I never asked, never wanted to know.'

' Hm. It's your fault I didn't tell you then. Serves you right.'

' Of course it does,' he replied, dutifully. ' Shouldn't you be getting ready for the match?'

' You want rid of me?

' Yes, desperately.'

' Tough. You're coming to watch. Support your team, Moony!' Even as Remus argued he was pulled from his seat and pushed through the door, Peter cackling from somewhere as he followed behind.

And so, twenty minutes and a lot of shoving later, Remus found himself with a front-row seat in the Gryffindor Stand.

It was a cool, clear day, perfect for Quidditch, Remus noted as he watched the stands fill with noisy students. Equal sections were reserved for the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, with a smaller section for anyone from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, and the Teachers stand in the middle.

The crisp evening air stung his face and Remus was suddenly grateful of the red and gold scarf Sirius had almost strangled him with on the way down. He wrapped it tighter around his cheeks, covering his reddening earlobes. It smelt of musk and chocolate and… dog. It was an odd combination, but not at all unpleasant.

' Here they come,' said Pete, pointing.

The players flooded onto the pitch in a stream of scarlet and emerald robes and assembled in formation around the centre spot. On instruction, the Slytherin captain - a small seventh-year Remus couldn't recall the name of - forcefully shook Marlene's hand. Remus almost felt sorry for him when she took it in her stride and gave as hard as she got.

The fourteen players mounted their brooms and prepared to kick off, and Remus was sure he saw Sirius and James exchange a look. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and in a sudden flash of colour the players were in the air. Hooch followed, shouting orders, and another official opened the box below and released the balls.

' And McKinnon gets the Quaffle,' the familiar voice of Pendah Patil - a seventh-year Ravenclaw, and long-time commentator - boomed across the grounds. ' Nice pass to Potter - returning chaser, of course - who puts it away neatly. Ten to Gryffindor.'

Remus cheered for his friend along with the rest of his House, and felt compelled to jeer when Barty Crouch scored a few minutes later.

' Nice shot there by the new chaser, third-year Crouch. But there goes Meadows while the Slytherins are celebrating - clean cross to Potter - and Gryffindor lead again, Twenty Ten.'

Peter shouted and squawked particularly loudly at Dorcas, who beamed back at the stands.

' Keeper Rabastan Lestrange clears the Quaffle, just avoiding a bludger by Sirius Black - returning Gryffindor Beater. Oh, but Thomas Knapford fumbles and McKinnon takes possession - Score!'

When Gryffindor upped their lead to fifty points, their opponents decided on a change of tack.

' Nasty interception there by Thorfinn Rowle - Slytherin Captain, no less. His team's gone for a change of strategy - obviously playing fair wasn't working for them.'

The game quickly deteriorated into all out violence. Unfortunately for Slytherin, it wasn't really helping them at all.

When Flint and Avery coordinated a joint attack on James, Sirius threw Lestrange off balance with a bludger and Dorcas scored. After that, the Slytherin beaters tried to knock the Gryffindor Keeper - Kenny Wood - clean off his broom, but James and Marlene already had the quaffle at the other end of the pitch.

Remus was so caught up in the systematic cheering and hissing that he didn't notice the blur of green across his vision until Patil spoke.

' Another clean shot. Ninety-twenty. Oh, and there goes Regulus Black - the new Slytherin Seeker - He's seen the snitch.'

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment at the revelation, and the entire school took a breath. Even the wind stilled, making it eerily silent, and Remus shivered. Then it was gone, and everyone sprang to action at once.

Marlene bellowed at Benjamin Kane, the Gryffindor seeker, to get his arse in gear.

Kane did as he was told, but Regulus had the new Nimbus 1000 and it outpaced the Comet 180 easily.

Lestrange was still staring, gormless, at his seeker, and James and Dorcas to the opportunity to get in behind him with the quaffle.

Remus was watching Regulus shooting towards the ground, feeling oddly invested in the result, and irritated about the imminent Gryffindor loss. He focused on the steady voice of Patil, which was still echoing around the pitch.

' That's a Hundred and forty - twenty. Not enough. And Black's almost there - He's reaching for something - I can't see what, but it must be the snitch! Meadows makes it a Hundred and fifty. Nearly -' there was a sickening crack as the heavy bludger smashed into Regulus' outstretched arm. Every member of the crowd grimaced.

' That's a definite break. Sirius Black's handiwork. There's certainly no love between these brothers. Potter's scored again. Hundred and sixty - But Regulus has straightened himself up. He's still going, blimey - that's impressive.'

Regulus had indeed pulled himself straight. He pressed his shattered wrist to his chest and spared a fleeting snarl for his brother as he hurtled towards the little flash of gold.

He made the catch with his good hand, balanced on his broom with only his knees, then skidded to a stop and collapsed into a heap. He was pale and clearly pained, but the pride was evident on his face. But he'd been just a second too late.

Sirius' hit had done it's job, slowed the younger Black down long enough for James, Dorcas and Marlene to up their score.

' Hundred and Seventy to a Hundred and Seventy. A draw! Not had that between these two teams in over eighty years! And that leaves the House Cup Standings…'

But Remus wasn't listening anymore. He was watching Sirius, who had dismounted below and was approaching Regulus. The younger boy was shouting as he scrambled to his feet, his good arm flailing in the air. His face was the picture of fury as he screamed at his brother and, bizarrely, Sirius just stood quietly and took it.

Eventually, several Slytherins intervened, calming their team-mate down and shepparding him up to the hospital wing. Sirius stared blankly at the spot for a moment, then he exited the pitch at the opposite end to the changing rooms and sprinted off in the direction of the lake.

Remus gave his quick goodbyes to a satisfied-enough-to-celebrate James, Peter and Dorcas, then headed down to the lake himself. It took him the better part of an hour to locate his friend, and when he finally spotted the bear-sized black dog it was getting fairly dark.

Padfoot was sitting under a willow tree on the far side of the lake, looking back towards the castle. Remus edged towards him and settled himself with his back against the tree trunk.

' You okay, Pads?'

The dog whimpered, shuffled closer and put it's head in his lap. Idly, Remus stroked the great shaggy head, rubbing gently behind the ears. He stayed like that for a while, silent and staring across at the lights flickering in Gryffindor tower.

' It'll be alright, you know,' He said, finally. ' Madam Pomfrey'll fix him up in no time. Probably all better by now.'

There was a shifting movement as the dog turned back into his friend, but Sirius didn't move his head from Remus' lap, and Remus kept rubbing softly behind his ear. The older boys breathing was slightly ragged and Remus tried to ignore the dampness he could feel where the purebloods eyes were pressed to his leg.

' I didn't mean to hurt him, you know,' Sirius almost whispered, his voice hoarse. ' I really didn't.'

' I know, Padfoot. I know.'

**Here you are dear readers, Chapter Eight! **

**So, a few things. Firstly, I made Sirius a beater. I thought - Sirius with an excuse to throw heavy, unpredictable and dangerous items at Slytherins without being punished for it? And my brain replied **_**Suits you sir,**_** in a very posh, very phoney London accent.**

**Secondly, I made this an evening Quidditch match. I couldn't remember at the time whether this was ever mentioned, I don't think it was, but hey! If they can do it for football, they can do it for Quidditch. **

**Yeah, and I don't believe for a minute that Sirius hated Regulus. The way he told Harry he was 'too soft to say no' to his parents ideals sounded too protective for me. Disappointed maybe, but protective.**

**On a separate note, I keep seeing all the adverts of the Deathly Hallows film. It's kind of annoying me. I'm a definite book girl myself, so my only interest in the films in a morbid fascination to see how badly they maim the story to make it suitable for kids. But that's me, and I have been told I am **_**different**_** to normal people. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading! Feedback makes me smile! Danke shern!**


	9. A Good Kind of Pink

**A Good Kind of Pink**

To most people, Saint Valentine's Day was a celebration of love and romance, and a time to spend with your own special someone. For Sirius Black, it was an excruciatingly long twenty-fours hours of annoyingly cute pink things and fluffy public displays of affection between people who barely know one another.

Maybe it was another of those unfortunate results of being born into the House of Black - a family which considered love, and any outward expression of any emotion thereabouts, as terrible a notion as the inclination to slap your grandmother across the face while setting her hair on fire.

Sirius imagined the look on his dear mothers face if he were to do that very thing to his own banshee of a grandmother, and let out a satisfied little chuckle. It might even be worth it.

Remus gave him a slightly concerned sideways glance, but said nothing. Sirius had had more than his fair share of Fire-whiskey and, he suddenly realised, he may very well have been giggling periodically for the last hour.

They were alone in the dorm for the first Valentines Day in four years. In their first year, the four of them had agreed the holiday was a stupid, girly waste of time, money and effort. As such, they had snuck down to the kitchens and the house elves, ever grateful for company and compliments, had plied them with snacks.

Every year since they had repeated the endeavour, increasing their indulgences suitably. In their second year, Peter had smuggled in some Muggle cider, which ended terribly and had encouraged them to ease off in their third and go with cigarettes instead. Last year, James had managed to get hold of some _Arundo Donax _- more commonly known as Nax Weed. That had been an interesting night, and some incriminating photographs had been burned the morning after.

This year, Sirius had stolen four bottles worth of Fire-whiskey from his fathers study, refilling the empty decanters with a mixture of vinegar, honey and lemon juice to avoid detection until after he was safely back at school. But, alas, they had been abandoned.

Sirius slapped his hand to the floor in frustration. He couldn't rightfully remember why he was laying on the floor. Remus sat up on his bed and peered down at Sirius questioningly.

Curse that bloody werewolf and his ridiculous wolf-y metabolism.

Remus had probably had more to drink that Sirius had, but he was taking it significantly better. For one thing, he could still sit up relatively straight while Sirius couldn't even will himself off the frozen stone floor.

' I can't believe they abandoned us,' he whined, going for dramatic but slurring slightly. ' Four years and Marauder tradition, forsaken!'

' Pads,' Remus started, voice even and reasonable. ' We were eleven…'

' Twelve,' Sirius said, louder than he meant to, jabbing himself in the chest rather vigorously.

' Eleven and twelve when we started that tradition. We hadn't anticipated girls.'

Sirius thought 'bollocks', then realised he may have said it out loud. ' We're still here aren't we?'

' Yes,' Remus said, calmly. ' But you're an emotionally challenged inbreed with hyperactivity issues and I'm a control-freak were…'

' No!' Sirius shouted, suddenly finding the energy to sit up and pointing at what he hoped was roughly Remus' face. ' Don't say that. That's no reason, no excuse.'

' Of course it is,' the boy scoffed. ' What better reason not to get close to someone than that you might tear them to shreds once a month?'

That was the only giveaway of how drunk Remus actually was. He lost some of that tight control. He said what he was thinking, instead of moderating it. Sirius smiled, but he didn't really know why.

' I think you insulted me.'

' So do I. Sorry, Pads.'

' So, Peter took Dork-face?'

' Hmm.'

' She asked me last year.'

' I know. You told her to get fucked and advised her to shove her card somewhere I imagine it would be very unpleasant to have paper filed.'

Sirius snorted a laugh. ' Merlin, I love Nax.'

' Can't believe she still talks to you, personally.'

' They all love me. Can't help it. I am gorgeous.'

It was Remus' turn to snort. ' So what're you doing stuck up here with me then, instead of on a hot date in Hogsmead or snogging some tart senseless in the common room?'

' I'm not stuck with you. You know I'd rather be here, Moony. And I hate this bloody holiday.'

' Oh.'

There was a long, comfortable silence. Or there would have been, if Sirius' head would stop buzzing. He might have passed out briefly, but he couldn't be sure. At some point, he had moved onto Remus' bed, and when he opened his eye he was vaguely surprised to find his head on the fairer boys stomach.

' You're comfy.'

' You sound surprised. Should I be offended?'

' I am surprised. You're such a skinny bastard, all bones. You have no right to be this soft and comfortable.'

' Did you just call me soft?'

' Hmm. I did,' Sirius confirmed. He had been staring at Remus' toes, and decided to find the boys face. The movement took longer than it should have, and made him feel rather ill, but he managed it.

' You don't look so good. How do you feel?'

' I don't. Not right much, anyway. But thanks for worrying,' Sirius said, trying to keep Remus' nose in focus. He was always to concerned with everyone else, and it made Sirius think of something else. ' Thanks, by the way. For…at Quidditch… and, well… Y'know.'

Little frown lines appeared between Remus' eyebrows as he tried to decipher the words. Finally he caught on and muttered, ' Oh, yeah. No problem. Don't like to see you upset.'

' You worry about us too much. You should take care of yourself more.''

' I take care of myself perfectly well, thank you.'

' You know what I mean.'

' No, I don't.'

Silence fell once more. Sirius nuzzled into Remus' chest and listened to the werewolf's heartbeat. It was calm and steady and even. Remus' fingers were carding through the hair at the nape or Sirius' neck, and eventually found their way to that spot behind his ear. He closed his eyes for a minute and enjoyed the sensation, feeling his own heartbeat quicken slightly. He might have moaned, and he hoped to whatever gods were listening that he hadn't.

After a while, he lifted his head and looked down at Remus' face.

' You'll find someone, you know.'

Remus propped his head up with his arm and met Sirius' gaze with a raised eyebrow. ' What?'

' Someone who won't run away. Won't mind what you are. Like us.'

' I've already been lucky enough to find three friends who accept me. And Lily, I'm pretty sure knows. And she didn't scream, or run away or anything. Which is good, right? But the point is, I'm not going to push it.'

' It'd been such a waste. You're a catch.'

' Err… Thanks?'

Sirius realised he had leaned forward, but he didn't make to move back. Their noses were almost touching, but he couldn't look away from the wide brown eyes in front of him. His face felt very hot, and Remus' cheeks were turning pink. The air in the room was humming. Or maybe that was his head again, he couldn't be certain.

His mouth felt suddenly dry, and he swallowed hard. He could feel hot, heavy, alcohol-tinged breath against his face and his eyes dropped to the other boys mouth. Those soft, pink lips looked terribly inviting. A good pink, not a sickening fluffy pink. But they were parted slightly, like Remus was going to say something. Sirius resolved not to let him, taking a deep breath and lowering his head forward a fraction.

Of course, something had to shatter the moment.

The door flung open with a _bang_ and, though nobody was there, James Potter's voice filled the room.

' Moony, help me!' He wailed, pulling off his invisibility cloak.

His face was covered in huge puss-filled boils, large and red-rimmed and looking thoroughly painful.

Remus jerked away, jumping off the bed. The sudden movement combined with the rancid stench of James further unsettled Sirius' already tetchy stomach, and he leaned over the edge of the bed and retched.

When he had recovered enough to lift his head, he looked across the room. Remus was removing the sores one by one, and James was making as much fuss as possible. Sirius felt strangely annoyed at his best friend for bursting in.

' No,' he mumbled to himself, dropping his aching head back to the mattress. ' It's for the best.'

Then he lost consciousness, not at all convinced.

**Curse you, James Potter, and your awful timing! **

**Yes, short chapter for you this time, but the nest will be longer and will hopefully be up later today or early tomorrow. This one was really hard for me to write, having never been even slightly tipsy. Yes, I know, I am terrible. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews make me smile, let me know how I'm doing. Danke shern!**


	10. The Bravery of Sheep

**The Bravery of Sheep**

Peter Pettigrew was what society generally referred to as a sheep.

It wasn't that he _couldn't_ think for himself. It was just easier not to most of the time. When your friends were the naturally brilliant James Potter, the bred-for-talent Sirius Black and the ridiculously studious Remus Lupin, you didn't really need to think for yourself too often.

And it was a five-year habit Peter was regretting rather severely at the moment. He had been left standing alone in the fifth-year dorm room, and nobody had told him what to do. But he knew he had to do something.

While Peter wasn't remarkably intelligent, he wasn't stupid either. He had known something was wrong the moment he was awoken by the sounds of arguing. It was not unusual to hear bickering in the dorm, with boys as like-minded as James and Sirius, but never _real_ fighting.

And that was the only word to describe this - fighting. Fortunately for Peter, it was Muggle fighting. He couldn't counter half the curses these two knew and he was glad he wouldn't have to try. But then James' fist collided with Sirius' cheek and that fleeting feeling of relief was gone. This was serious.

' What the hell is going on?' Peter shouted, too startled by the scene to worry about being polite.

' Pete!' Sirius cried. ' Will you get this madman off of me!'

James had pushed Sirius forcefully back against the wall with one hand, the other still balled into a fist. Before Peter had even thought about it, he found himself grabbing James wrist and pulling it back down.

' What is it?' He asked, barely whispering in his anticipation.

' This - This…' James seemed to struggle for a word bad enough to pop into his head, but it didn't and he gave up. ' He's told Snivellus. About Moony.'

Peter just gawped. First at James, who had adopted a grave I'm-glad-you-understand-how-terrible-this-is look, then at Sirius, who seemed oddly hesitant and a little confused.

' You… what?' Peter all but squeaked out.

' He told him about Moony!' James reiterated, angrily. ' Not just about what he is, but how to get in there with him.'

Peter's brain screamed an assortment of choice swear words at him in a blind panic, but all he managed to get out of his mouth was a meek, ' Oh dear.'

Now it was Sirius' turn to look angry. ' I told him nothing of the sort!'

Peter noticed fleetingly that Sirius hadn't managed to entirely repress the aristocratic, marbles-in-mouth accent he had been raised with. He was getting really upset about this. The thought made Peter feel a bit ill. James was pacing the room now.

' Wh- What _did_ you t-tell him?' Peter stuttered out, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

' He was shoving his ridiculously sized nose were it has no right being, as per usual…'

James growled, actually growled, then snapped, ' Without the insults, thanks. Facts.'

' He was following Moony again, saw Pomfrey take him out to the Willow…'

' But,' Peter put in, hopefully. ' He can't get in, can he? He doesn't-'

' He does,' James said, darkly. ' This pillock told him.'

' I didn't,' Sirius yelled again, but he voice carried distinctly less conviction. ' I only said that Gudgeon had the right idea…'

' Gudgeon…?' Peter asked, thoroughly confused.

' Davey Gudgeon. That Hufflepuff boy, nearly lost an eye back in first year, remember?'

' Yeah, remember?' James shouted, a manic edge to his voice. ' Wasn't fast enough when he was trying to _touch the Whomping fucking Willow!'_

' Oh dear,' Peter managed again. This was bad.

' Look,' Sirius said, his tone trying for firm and managing unconvinced. ' Snivelly isn't going to figure it out. He's too thick.'

' No,' James said. He wasn't shouting anymore, and this sudden calm frightened Peter so much more. ' Much as I hate the slimy little bastard, he isn't stupid.'

Peter was even more unsettled by this comment. James - James Potter - defending Snivellus Snape? It was bizarre, and Peter suddenly hoped he was still asleep, cosy in his bed, and this was all a warped nightmare. Sirius also looked shaken by the outburst, and he had paled slightly.

James moved to stand directly in front of Sirius, looking squarely at his face. ' You know he'll figure this out. He will.'

' No… He - I - Uh… No - Can't…'

Now Peter was full-blown terrified. _Wake up, wake up,_ he told himself, nipping hard at his own wrists, but it didn't work. Sirius Black, rendered incoherent. This wasn't happening, couldn't be. But James didn't stop, he pressed his advantage while Sirius was struck dumb.

' Just think for a minute, Sirius! What'll happen if he gets to Moony? What will they do to Remus when they find out? Thank about it.'

Sirius blanched the colour of sour milk - Pale, pallid and slightly green. His grey eyes were wide, and his hand clapped over his mouth as it finally sank in.

' We have to do something,' he whispered.

' No,' James said, firmly jabbing his finger at the other boy. ' You've done enough.'

And then James had run from the room without another word and Sirius had made a dash for the bathroom.

Pete could hear the sounds of retching even now, as he panicked. He tried to organise his thoughts. He didn't know what to do. He ran through his back-up lists.

What would James do? _Exactly what he is doing, something stupid and reckless and completely spontaneous._

What would Sirius do? _Throw up, apparently. Surely he could put aside his self-pity-party until after they helped Remus?_

Remus! What would Remus do, if it was one of them? _Probably get a teacher. Yes, exactly that. Stay calm and get Dumbledore._

Maybe that was it! Dumbledore would know what to do. Peter grabbed his shoes and pulled them on without doing the laces. The he hurried to the bathroom door and banged on it loudly.

' When you've stopped feeling sorry for yourself, I'll be with Dumbledore. Helping.'

He added the last word a little more spitefully than he meant to, but he didn't have time to worry about that now. He ran down the stairs and through the common room and out of the portrait hole, apologising to the fat lady as he went.

He turned around the corner, checked the portraits were all soundly sleeping and then transformed with a little squeak.

He couldn't have told you why, but he was certain that it was the right thing to do. He could avoid being caught before he got to Dumbledore, and avoid involving any other teachers, which he was also certain he didn't want to do.

He wasn't sure where all this certainty was coming from, but he was glad of it.

Before he knew it, he had scurried past the gargoyle statue and up the hidden staircase. He transformed back and knocked tentatively on the wooden door, hoping his headmaster wouldn't ask how he got up there without the password.

Dumbledore opened the door with the interested look of a person greeting an old friend he hadn't expected to see.

' Mr Pettigrew,' he said, pleasantly despite the ungodly hour.

' Professor… I - uh - Remus -'

Now he was here, he couldn't think how to say it. His mouth worked for a few moment without actually making any noise, then his headmaster gestured for him to enter the room. He did as he was bid.

' Please, Mr Pettigrew, take a seat.'

' No,' Peter shouted, but Dumbledore didn't react. ' S-sorry, Professor, but it's R-Remus…'

' I assure you Mr Lupin is perfectly fine,' he said, glancing out of his window. Peter realised he was looking at the Shrieking shack. ' His mother is a little ill at present, that is…'

' No, Sir,' Peter said, hurriedly. ' W-we know. We k-know about… That.'

He nodded to the shack himself to emphasise his point, and waited for the reaction.

' You are aware of Mr Lupin's condition? Hm,' He sounded only mildly interested, like discussing a Quidditch result. ' I take 'we' to mean yourself, Mr Potter and Mr Black. Might I enquire to their whereabouts?'

' W-well, Sirius is puk- vomiting s-somewhere. And J-James… Well, t-that's the problem, s-sir. James has g-gone after Sni- Snape. He- he's going to try to catch Remus, sir… He-'

' It's okay Mr Pettigrew, I think that's enough. Are they there now?'

Peter nodded, and Dumbledore took a few steps towards the door. Then he looked back at the boy.

' I'll be back shortly. If you could retrieve Mr Black and then remain here until I return.'

Peter sank into a chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. He had told Sirius where he was going, and hoped the older boy managed to drag himself here without Peter's help. Thankfully he did and, five minutes later, a distinctly green-around-the-gills Sirius practically fell through the door.

Peter pointedly ignored him, deciding that if James was furious with him, Peter probably should be too. The other boy crawled into chair and didn't even try to talk. Peter realised he had been biting his nails in a very rodent-like manner, and clasped his hands together in his lap to avoid the temptation.

The next minutes seemed to take an eternity to pass, and they were some of the most awkward moments of Peters life. And he'd been in some pretty awkward moment.

Walking in on your mother in a state of significant undress with the Muggle window cleaner constitutes awkward.

Discovering that the boys you have been talking to at the welcome feast were from rivalling Pureblood families, pretty awkward.

Walking in on James and Sirius naked wrestling - not once or twice, but three times in a week - had also been fairly awkward.

Finding out your other best friend was not visiting his ill mother, but was in fact transforming into a huge, terrifying, bloodthirsty animal once a month, definitely qualified as awkward.

But this? Waiting to find out if said friend had unknowingly murdered another student? Awkward was a significant understatement, but Peter's vocabulary wasn't brilliant, and he couldn't think of a more suitable word.

Finally, the wooden door swung open once again. Dumbledore strolled quite calmly into the office, with a dishevelled James and - Peter never thought he'd be happy to see - a very much alive and well Severus Snape. The headmaster conjured up a few extra chairs before settling himself on the other side of the desk.

' Okay, gentlemen. I think we have some issues that need discussing, don't you?'

' Issues?' Snape hissed, looking livid. ' Discussing? They tried to kill me! Cold blooded murder! They should be expelled for - for harbouring a monster!'

' Now, Mr Snape. I will not have outbursts, interruptions or derogatory terms used during this little chat. And I thank you to remember it. Now, Mr Black. Mr Potter here has advised me that the unfortunate events of this evening are a result of your indiscretion.'

Sirius made a noise a bit like a whimper. Peter looked on with a sort of morbid curiosity as the normally articulate boy stuttered out an explanation. It was oddly fascinating to watch the tall, athletic figure shrink as small as possible into the chair it occupied.

' I see,' Dumbledore was saying now. ' So you informed Mr Potter of your words and…'

Peter zoned out again. He was watching James. The messy-haired boy was rigid in his seat, ever muscle tense. His jaw was clenched tightly, even as he spoke, which was bizarre. His fist were balled up, and Peter knew his fingernails must be cutting into his palms.

James was pointedly not looking at Sirius, who seemed to have gotten smaller still, staring straight ahead instead.

Peter looked at Snape too. The Slytherin looked like a coiled snake, ready to attack at any moment. Peter could see the fury in his black little eyes. Even as he registered the likeness the boy had to a time bomb, he exploded.

' What does all this matter!' he shouted, jumping out of his seat and daring to wave an accusing finger at the headmaster. ' They're harbouring a _Werewolf_! They sent me out there! They nearly killed me!'

' No, Mr Snape, I am afraid you are mistaken. _I_ am, for lack of a better word, harbouring a werewolf, I don't believe Mr Black _sent_ you anywhere, and Mr Potter here _saved_ you.'

The oily boy gawped most unbecomingly at the silver-bearded man like he had suddenly sprouted a second head.

' Now, boys, this is my decision. Mr Black. Fifty points for thoughtless and dangerous insinuations with the intent -if not to kill or maim - to result in the beating of a fellow student. You will spend the rest of the year enjoying Saturday detentions with Mr Filch, and Wednesday evenings tutoring first-year Transfiguration students with Professor McGonagall. You will also be removed from the Quidditch team effective immediately and will not be permitted to visit Hogsmead for the duration of the school year.

' Mr Potter. You displayed an amazing show of Gryffindor courage and bravery, and you are, I dare say, the reason Mr Snape is able to sit here with us at this very moment. Forty points for sheer recklessness, of the most marvellous kind.

' Mr Snape. It is my conclusion that, had you not been seeking out information on your fellow students with malicious intent, this whole evening could have been much better spent for all of us. Thirty points from Slytherin, and a months detentions with Professor Knox, I think.

' And finally you, Mr Pettigrew. You were very sensible to come to me tonight, while your fellows were otherwise occupied, and it may have made all the difference. Never be too proud to ask for help when you need it. Twenty points, for incredible coolness under pressure.'

The wizened wizard paused for a long moment, and surveyed each of the boys in turn - his sparkly blue eyes peering over his spectacles. Peter felt uncomfortably like he was being viewed inside-out.

' That will be all, thank you. Mr Potter, Mr Pettigrew. It is almost sunrise. Mr Black, I suggest you head back to your dormitory immediately. Mr Snape, I assure you, you do not want to _accidentally_ let slip anything about this evenings events. If you do, you may find the ministry are suddenly very interested in some old friends of yours.'

The boys all shuffled to their feet, tired and aching and feeling thoroughly drained, and not at all understanding that last warning. James opened the door, and held it for Peter but almost let it slam in Sirius' face. The older boy barely seemed to notice though, walking past them without a word.

They waited until Snape was safely out of earshot, then James turned meaningfully to Peter.

' Remus,' was all he said, and they ran off in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

**Here you are, another long one. Bit lacking on the romance again, sorry. It is coming, I promise. **

**I wanted to do this chapter from Peter's POV as a different take on it. And I wanted him to be important. He was a marauder after all, and I'm pretty sure murderous tendencies don't start as early as 15.**

**While I'm here, I just wanted to thank my two best Reviewers! Cat and AtraThestral! Thank you very much for the comments! And, Cat - I never thought I would be glad to hear my writing made someone feel ill, but I was! My work here is done. Thanks! **

**That is all. Thank you for reading, reviews make me smile. Merci!**


	11. Muggle Sleeping Potions

**Muggle Sleeping Potions**

Remus John Lupin was not a light sleeper. Nor was he a heavily sleeper, so he supposed that made him a middleweight sleeper. But nevertheless, he needed his middleweight sleep.

It was one of those unfortunate side-effects of his Lycanthropy. Like always having to wear long sleeves to cover his scars, and swiftly plucking out those occasional grey hairs that grew in with the brown. His metabolism worked much quicker than a normal fifteen-year-old boys. It meant he was always just a shade away from too skinny to be healthy, and it also meant he needed appropriate amounts of sleep.

But tonight he couldn't. In fact, he hadn't slept in over a week now. And the insomnia was grating on him.

He rolled onto his stomach instead, pulling his pillow rather viciously towards him and rearranging it to make it more comfortable, then dropped his head heavily and pressed his eyes tightly shut. He was determined to get some sleep tonight.

People had been commenting on how awful he looked, and he'd really rather not be subjected to their scrutiny. Though not remarkably observant, most of his fellow Gryffindors were reasonably intelligent and he always worried that they would work out the pattern of his absences if they looked too closely. More worryingly still was that students who had long since accepted that he was just a sickly boy with a family prone to disaster were starting to look twice at him, eyes questioning - prying.

He had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror the day before, and he thoroughly understood their concern. He did look pretty bad. The grey smudges under his eyes - usually reserved only for the day after the moon - had become a permanent feature, more prominent against his pasty skin, and the small scar across the corner of his mouth was starkly pink in contrast.

He must look dreadful, he decided, because people outside the Marauders - and Lily - were coddling him. Dorcas kept bringing him food from the kitchens, and Mary McDonald had offered to help him revise his Potions work. It was getting a little annoying - he wasn't an antique vase that needed wrapping in cotton wool! He just needed some sleep.

Even the reliable temper of Marlene McKinnon had failed him, and she had politely enquired as to the whereabouts of a certain James Potter, then wandered away. She had, of course, then given James the bollocking of his life for not preventing Sirius from doing something so stupid he was banned from Quidditch indefinitely.

And there was the problem. Sirius.

By now, everyone in the castle knew about the 'prank', as they had taken to calling it. Well, they knew a half-truth version. Remus was incredibly impressed with - and thankful for - Dumbledore's amazing ability to twist even the worst kind of truths into something less damaging and significantly more useful.

The Headmaster had preserved the story perfectly, changing only one detail. Or omitting, rather. He simply didn't specify what was at the end of the tunnel.

So, the school knew that Sirius Black had done something stupid, which was not at all unusual, and that it had involved Severus Snape. The general school opinion was that the 'prank' was stupid and dangerous - 'Always has been cruel, that Black. It's in the blood' - that it had gotten out of hand and gone too far - 'Knew it was only a matter of time with those boys' - and that Sirius was a positive wreck because of it - 'and so he should be, after a stunt like that'.

But the sensational part of the story was not that Snape had almost been killed by some terrible unknown creature, or possibly just the crazed tree itself. The shock came in the form of the saviour. James Potter had saved Severus Snape.

_James Potter_ had saved _Severus Snape._

Remus was thankful for the unexpected focus on the story, because it had stopped anybody from connecting his sudden illness to Sirius' absence. And that was it. Remus hadn't seen Sirius since that evening, when he had left to go to the shack.

The older boy had already left the dorm when James and Peter had returned the morning after, and had taken his trunk with him. He hadn't been in Gryffindor tower since, nor had he appeared in the Great Hall at mealtimes. He hadn't been to a single lesson, either, and this fact alone wouldn't have bothered him, but not one teacher had commented on it.

Remus was beginning to wonder if Sirius had dropped out. Just left, and gone back to his hellish family, rather than face them - face him.

It wasn't even that Remus was angry - he had always struggled to hold a grudge, and this would have been no different. But, in truth, he hadn't once felt angry in the last eight days.

The first thing he had felt was panic. Complete and utter, heart-stopping cold panic.

In that terrifying moment, He had thought it was over. His secret was out. He'd be expelled for definite, probably executed if he had managed to attack someone. Dumbledore would be publicly lynched, stripped of his position for ever allowing such a beast into an educational environment. And his parents, oh god. They'd be arrested for not putting him on the werewolf register immediately after the bite, probably accused of harbouring dark creatures for Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

After that ridiculously long moment of overwhelming dread and guilt and fear, everything James and Peter added was an enormous wave of relief.

Snape didn't get in, James stopped him.

Neither boy was hurt, no death - or worse.

Remus wasn't going to be expelled, or ostracised.

Dumbledore had sworn the Slytherin to secrecy, and Remus' secret was still just that - secret.

Remus felt a little guilty that he hadn't even thought about Sirius until he had been firmly tucked into his bed at the back of the hospital wing. It wasn't with anger. He wasn't angry about the…

He didn't rightly know what to call it. Not betrayal, it was too strong. It implied something intentional, premeditated, and Remus was certain that was not the case. Sirius had let his mouth run off before his brain could catch up. It wasn't the first time and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

And that was that, as far as Remus was concerned. There was no reason to forgive Sirius, because he hadn't done anything wrong in the first place. So, no anger. Instead, that peculiar mixture of guilt and relief had been slowly replaced by this incessant worrying.

Sleep wasn't coming. Remus half-heartedly punched his pillow, then got out of bed. He pulled his school robe on over his pyjamas and left the dorm as quietly as possible.

He hadn't bothered with the invisibility cloak for fear of waking his roommates, and he hadn't needed to. Even Peeves, the resident annoying-as-hell poltergeist had given up on finding students to get into trouble at four thirty in the morning, and all the teachers were soundly sleeping in their beds.

' Remus?'

Or not.

' Remus? What are you doing down here?'

He took a deep breath, then turned to face Professor Knox. She didn't look like she was about to lecture him, though. She looked concerned.

' Couldn't sleep,' Remus mumbled. ' Sorry, Professor, I'll just go…'

' No, no. It's okay. It's understandable.'

Ah, yes. Remus always forgot the staff knew the full story. She was looking closely at his face, and he waited for the inevitable comment about his appearance. Instead she stepped back and gestured for him to follow.

' I think I've got something that'll help.'

' Err… Help what, exactly, Professor?'

' You sleep,' she said simply.

She led him to her office, and then proceeded to root about in her drawers for a few moments. They seemed incredibly unorganised, illogical and Remus' inner prefect wanted to scold her and rearrange the paperwork. Alphabetically. She didn't have any trouble navigating the mess however, and straightened up holding a small vial of a turquoise liquid.

' Organised chaos,' she explained, catching the alarmed look in his eyes. ' Here. It's a Muggle sleeping draft. Just herbs and roots and the like, but really rather effective.'

' Then, what are you doing awake at this time?' he asked without thinking, then swiftly adding, ' If you don't mind me asking.'

She chuckled at his correction. ' Marking. With the exams drawing closer I've set essay homework left right and centre, not considering when I would get time to grade it. The woes of teaching - terrible profession.'

' You seem to like it.'

' I do. Very… Interesting,' she paused, clearly considering something. Then she looked Remus in the eye and said quietly, ' He really regrets it, you know. He's really, very sorry.'

' Sirius? You've seen him?' Remus didn't know why he was surprised by this, really. It was almost exam time, the staff wouldn't let him off his work regardless of the situation.

' Yeah. It's the first time I've seen him concentrate on his work. It's unsettling, to tell you the truth,' she smiled.

' Not that it matters,' Remus said, without bitterness. ' His marks can't get any higher no matter how hard he tries. Nothing higher than and 'Outstanding'. Unless they invent a 'Ridiculous'.'

She laughed again, and then bid him goodnight, or good morning, she wasn't sure which was appropriate. Remus made his way to the office door, then turned back to her.

' He doesn't have to be sorry, you know. He doesn't have to avoid me. I'm not mad. I just… miss him.'

And then he left, before she could say anything.

And, he didn't see the black-haired boy crawl out from his hiding place under the desk.

**Here we go, chapter eleven. Bit shorter this time, but not too much. And the next one will be up later tonight, to make up for it. **

**I don't really have much else to say. How odd. **

**Thanks for reading! Please Review! Danke Shern!**


	12. Very Manly Discussions

**Very Manly Discussions**

If ever there was a pointless emotion, it was nervousness.

All that useless jittering, twitchy movement was a waste of energy and on the emotional scale it was just recycled aspects of other annoying feelings, like anticipation and paranoia.

You imagine the worst possible outcome of your situation, convince yourself it is inevitably going to happen, sooner or later, then you worry about it until something does happen and then it isn't usually anywhere near as bad as you were expecting it to be.

Yes. Nervousness is an extremely girly, extremely annoying overreaction of an emotion!

And it was the only way to describe how a certain Sirius Black was feeling at this particular moment in time.

The Easter holiday officially started that morning, and most students had gone home the day before to spend two weeks eating chocolate and getting fat with their families. Sirius was obviously not going to be doing that, though it might have been a preferable alternative to standing about feeling awkward.

He knew Remus would be staying, because the next full moon fell the last Friday before school restarted, and the werewolf always preferred to use the Shrieking Shack over his parents tiny basement when he had the option.

So Sirius had decided, with a significant amount of pressure from Professor Knox, that this was the perfect time to resolve the matter. She was right, of course.

If Remus really did forgive him then they had two weeks to get comfortable with one another again, and when James and Peter returned they could fall back into the usual dynamic. The school's gossip-mongers, having been plied with chocolate goodness for a fortnight, would have forgotten all about the incident and moved back to the usual banter of who was shagging whom this week.

And if Remus didn't forgive him… Well. That didn't bare thinking about, really. He'd drop out, go back to his charming family and spend eternity as a glorified house elf. Or, probably the better option, he could throw himself off the astronomy tower now. The results were pretty similar - they both ended in him being brainless and broken. Did it really matter how?

But Knox had assured him it wouldn't come to that.

And more surprisingly, he believed her.

That woman had been his lifeline for the past two weeks. Both literally and figuratively. She had brought him food, collected his homework and explained his absence to the other teachers. She let him sleep in her empty classroom, transfiguring a few desks into a passable bed and apologising profusely for not being more proficient in the subject.

She had been so… motherly. So completely unlike his own mother.

Maybe that's what broke him. To have someone actually take care of him, not just in a physical sense. Someone to _care _about him.

And he had completely broken down. In the most emasculate way possible. He had sunk to the floor, and drawn his knees as near as possible to his chest, and he had sobbed. Actually cried, long and hard.

And she had sat quietly and listened, let him get it out of his system. And when he had finally regained enough composure to stop weeping and babbling like a first-year Hufflepuff girl, she had knelt beside him and put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

' Now,' she had said, in an odd mix of both gently and firmly, ' What are you going to do about it?'

He hadn't answered. Hadn't known. And she had left the subject alone for a few more days. Then Remus had wandered past in the middle of the night. And Sirius had hidden under a desk rather than face him. And the guilt only grew as Remus had spoken.

' _He doesn't have to be sorry, you know. He doesn't have to avoid me. I'm not mad. I just… miss him.'_

So she had asked him again, and this time she didn't accept a mumbled 'don't know'. She had pressed him and coaxed him, without even once sounding threatening or impatient.

So here he was.

Standing in the middle of the fifth-year boys dormitory, staring at Remus Lupin and feeling ridiculously girly and nervous. Remus looked thoroughly startled. But who could blame him, when a friend who hadn't talked to him in two weeks had suddenly burst into the dorm and practically yelled a string of decidedly incoherent sentences at him in such a high pitch some dogs would struggle to understand.

After a long moment, or perhaps a very short one, Remus said quietly, ' What?'

Sirius sank to the floor. His legs couldn't hold him anymore. Remus hadn't shouted at him, or told him to get out. That was as good a start as any. He took a steadying breath before he went on, more slowly.

' I know you probably never want to see me again, but I had to say I'm sorry…'

' Pads…'

' I was an idiot, and I wasn't thinking and, I am so sorry, I didn't mean for anything to happen…'

' Padfoot…'

' But the slimy, boat-nosed Slytherin _bastard_ was prying and watching you all the time and nagging me about it and… and I thought it wouldn't hurt to let him get beaten to a bloody pulp by a tree…'

' Sirius…'

' That'd be pretty funny, you've got to admit… And I didn't think he'd actually get it, the stupid git, or I'd never have…'

' SIRUS!'

' Sorry.'

' Please stop apologising,' Remus said, pleadingly.

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, realised he would only have repeated 'sorry', and closed it again.

The silence stretched out between them once again and it made Sirius feel, if it were possible, even more uncomfortable. He could feel something tickling behind his ear, and realised he had been knotting his fingers in his hair unconsciously. He forced his hand down to his lap, then trapped it between his knees for good measure.

He watched Remus closely. The werewolf wasn't looking at him, but staring at his own hands. His face was blank, unreadable.

Being quiet for prolonged periods of time had never been one of Sirius' strong points, and he inevitably broke the silence. When he spoke, he winced at how desperate he actually sounded.

' Please don't make me fill in those thought bubbles.'

Remus finally looked up and, rather surprisingly, gave Sirius a small smile.

' No,' he said, gravely. ' They'd be vulgar.'

And with that rather weak attempt at humour, they both understood that this was going to work out fine. It'd be okay. They'd be alright.

Sirius laughed harder than the pathetic joke warranted. He had never felt so relieved in his sixteen-year life. These people, the Marauders, were his family. And he had wanted nothing more than to be able to sit with them again, pulling pranks with James and laughing at Peter and having Remus correct his grammar. Especially having Remus correct his grammar. And his spelling, and his mispronunciation.

His mind shut down under that wave of sudden calm, and he actually muttered, ' I've been illiterate without you.'

If the brown-eyed boy heard him, he ignored it. Instead, he smiled a bit wider, if still a little uncertainly.

' Does this mean you're coming to live back here, instead of wherever you've been hiding?'

' Yeah… If you'll have me. If you want me back.'

Remus put on a thoughtful face, and tapped his chin with his finger. In a fraction of a second, Sirius wanted to hit him and hug him in equal measure. The former for joking and delaying when Sirius desperately need to hear an answer and the latter for trying so hard to make things as normal as possible.

' I think I can manage,' He said, finally, smiling. Then he added more seriously, ' I really do. Want you back.'

' Thank God,' Sirius said quietly, letting out the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. ' Any more late night talks with Professors and my reputation would be ruined.'

Remus gave him a strange look, like he had misheard, and then slowly mouthed, ' Late night talks…?'

' Err,' He said.

_Great start, you pillock. All those beating you've had for not speaking eloquently enough and you can't even defend your own honour without stuttering, _His brain chided, sounding horrifically like his Mother.

' Yeah,' he continued aloud. ' Very manly discussions, about… Quidditch and… Rock and Roll and… Sex! Yes, sex!'

' Are you sure you still have a reputation at all after that abysmal attempt at a sentence, Pads?'

' I don't know, I've repressed it already. I suggest you do the same, and we can forget this whole traumatic experience.'

' Done,' he said, standing and smiling properly now. ' Don't know about you, but I'm famished.'

' Repression is hungry work. Trust me, I'd know.'

' Well, hurry it along a bit,' the werewolf grinned. ' It's creepy how girly you're being.'

Sirius tried to look indignant, but didn't quite pull it off, so he shrugged instead and said, ' Yeah. But I am justifiably pretty. And you love it.'

' Would you allow me the honour of accompanying you to lunch, my lady?' Remus said, offering up his elbow in a very gentlemanly fashion.

' Gladly,' Sirius replied, taking said elbow as daintily as possible, and mimicing a courtsey.

They made their way down to the Great Hall, and Sirius had to consciously force down the sudden and overwhelming urge he had to skip with joy. Actually skip. It wouldn't have been a very becoming image.

They sat down together, and it was as though nothing had ever happened. They talked and laughed as they ate, and Sirius tried very hard to ignore a certain small, blond Professor who was beaming proudly at him from the head table.

**Oh My God! I woke up this morning with about 25 notifications about this story! Wow! **

**So, firstly, Thank you so much to everybody who had reviewed, or added this story to their Favourites or Story alerts. Thank you, It means a lot that people are actually reading this!**

**Secondly, you people are the reason I updated today. I was going to leave it until tomorrow, but then I got all those messages and I felt really guilty. So here you are, and my searing conscience is salved.**

**And I am glad I got such good feedback about my take on this 'incident'. I just didn't see Remus getting angry about it. I mean, we've only ever seen him get really, properly mad once in the books, and it was at himself.**

**Once again, Thank you for reading! Reviews always make my day. Danke Shern!**


	13. Hiding Behind the Opaque

**Hiding Behind the Opaque**

Thankfully for everyone involved, things worked out exactly as Sirius had hoped.

James returned to the school the day before the full moon, with the pretext of making use of an empty library to finish his holiday homework and prepare for the OWL exams. Just how that boys parents had believed that story for even a second, Remus would probably never understand.

James had strolled into the common room, and appeared only mildly surprised to see Remus and Sirius laughing together. Then the expected insults had been thrown, followed by a few punches, but all in a good natured sort of way. Another thing Remus could never even hope to understand - punching your friends because you care. Baffling.

Over the next few days, Remus felt a distinct aura of gratitude from James. It suddenly occurred to him that this had been the longest the two dark-haired boys had gone without speaking since they met on that first day, nearly five years ago. And Remus hadn't once stopped to appreciate how hard it must have been for James, even amongst all the attention and the scandal and the praise - all of which he adored to an unhealthy degree. But the cost of it had been his best friend. Remus was doubly glad it was over, now.

Peter had been less successful on his attempt to convince his mother to let him come back early. Either the woman knew her son was up to something, or she knew no amount of studying in the world could help him. Both were equally as likely. He had arrived back on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the student body, traipsing into the Great Hall on Sunday evening.

He had taken one long look at the boys already sat at the table - Remus, flanked by James and Sirius, all smiling happily back at him - and had joined them without question. It was like nothing had happened. The pureblood boys were doting on the rather fragile but contented looking post-moon werewolf, and everything was right again.

Fortunately, this was the attitude of the rest of the school as well. The Marauders were back together, laughing and joking and probably plotting away, and nobody could remember what had ever come between them.

Well, almost nobody.

Several members of a certain House represented by a snake were less than happy about the reunion. Most notably Regulus Black and Severus Snape.

Remus had seen Regulus' blatant joy when word got out that his show-off, blood-traitor brother had been ostracised by his so-called friends. The boy had been positively gleeful. On that Sunday, as he made his way to the Slytherin table while glancing back across the Hall at the Gryffindors, he looked a little ill. Remus got the impression that Regulus simply didn't want to accept that being different was an option, that you didn't have to conform to be happy.

And then Snape. If that boy thought James and Sirius had been cruel and unpredictable before, he had a whole new and significantly less pleasant experience now. The pair had taken to hexing him on sight, regardless of witnesses or repercussions. James had developed the nasty habit of following the Slytherin into Bathrooms, petrifying him and leaving him in a closed cubicle until some poor, unsuspecting student with a full bladder stumbled upon him.

They were now well into their OWL examinations and, by this point, Remus had all but given up on trying to temper their efforts. He had tried talking to them, he had attempted to threaten them, told them he would report them. Nothing had worked. They just hated that boy so intensely, for so many reasons, that it was impossible to dissuade them.

Remus almost felt sorry for him. But there are only so many times you can be called a 'filthy half-breed monster' in passing before even the most determined empathy starts to dwindle. So Remus stayed back, mostly. Let the boys get it out of their system, while he said nothing.

Sometimes it was difficult to ignore. Like earlier that afternoon. They had cornered Snape by the lake, after their Defence exam. It hadn't been pretty.

' I don't want to see him,' Lily shouted, as she exited the girls dorm.

Remus sighed. It still wasn't pretty.

' We have, Lils,' Dorcas said, soothingly rubbing her friends shoulder. ' He won't listen.'

' I always told you he was trouble,' Mary added, harshly. ' He's saying he'll sleep out there, if he has to.'

' It's sort of pathetic really,' Dorcas concluded.

Remus tried to concentrate on not listening as Mary pointed out, once again, how much she hated Slytherins in general, and how appalled she was that Lily could be civil with one. Remus couldn't blame her, after Mulciber had… Well, it wasn't worth thinking about.

Remus focused on his friends instead. James was going slightly pink and making a distinct effort not to look at the girls across the room. Sirius, who was laying across the sofa with his head in Remus' lap, tilted his head to look up at the flushed boy.

' What're you looking so guilty for?' He said, raising an eyebrow.

' Don't know what you mean,' James said shiftily, rubbing at the splotches on his neck.

' Because _that_,' Peter supplied, nodding towards the girls, ' Is all _his_ fault.'

' Bollocks.'

' Sirius. You do recall the event of this afternoon, I presume?'

' Don't remind me Moony. How'll I ever get the imprint of Snivelly's undies out of my fragile mind?'

' Not really the point I was getting at,' Remus sighed, lifting his Transfiguration book again.

' That's because you don't have a point, Moons. The daft cow went out of her way to be friendly with a snake, and now she's been bitten. No, worse than bitten. Swallowed. Whole. And now she is dissolving in snaky digestive juices of her own makin…'

He was cut off when James threw a pillow at him, rather more forcefully than was required. Sirius, remarkably, didn't retaliate, but continued.

' Oh, come off it Prongs. You telling me you haven't once thought about coming between them, since you found out they were playing happy families?'

' I…' James started, then thought for a moment before admitting, ' Well, yeah. But I didn't think it would upset her so much.'

Sirius looked incredulous. Remus stroked his hair, like he'd stroke a dog, in what he hoped was a calming manner.

' Moving on…' Peter said, louder than necessary. ' I've been thinking…'

' Oh dear,' James muttered, patronisingly.

' We should have a map.'

Remus looked over his copy of _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, _at the boy lounging in the armchair nearest the fire. There was something strange, Remus thought, about seeing such a mousy boy curled up like a cat.

' Get off it, Wormtail!' James said loudly.

He had somehow turned himself around in his own chair. His feet were sticking up at the top and his head hanging awkwardly over the front. Oddly, his hair looked, if anything, fractionally neater. In fact, Remus suspected that if her were to stand on his head and look at James, the boy would be exactly the same as always - except slightly flushed and his glasses would dangle peculiarly away from his nose.

' I think we know our way around this sodding castle by now!' Sirius put in. ' We know more than most of the teachers do.'

' Be fair, Padfoot,' James said, mock sternly. ' Not many of the teachers are wandering the grounds with a werewolf every month, are they?'

' Indoor voice, Prongs, if you please,' Remus reminded, without looking up from his book.

' But that's my point,' Peter pressed on. ' We should do something with that knowledge!'

' Yeah, something really exciting like making a ruddy great map!' James said, scathingly sarcastic.

' We do know a lot of secret passageways around here,' Remus mused, more to himself than anybody else.

' Yeah,' Peter said, jumping on the consideration. ' We have the One-eyed witch, and the Whomping Willow and… And that one behind the mirror we found last month!'

Peter was right, of course. They had, after a significant amount of pushing from James and Sirius, decided to attempt a walkabout for the last full moon. With Padfoot and Prongs to control the wolf, they had managed very well. They had ventured around the abandoned streets of Hogsmead, and found the tunnel behind a charmed wall in the alley between Sprintwitches, the sports shop, and Dogweed and Deathcap, the herbologists. Apparently, the Wolf had been drawn to it.

Wormtail had explored it, finding it led to the large mirror on the fourth floor. They had later discovered it opened from the other side with a small concealed switch under the frame, and had been using it as a hiding place rather frequently since. The tunnel widened out to the size of a small classroom, and they had taken to storing most of their joke items there, rather than the dorm.

Remus couldn't help but think back to the last time he had been in that tunnel. He had accompanied Sirius down to the kitchens to pilfer, in the nicest way possible, food from the house elves. On their way back up to the tower, Mrs Norris had spotted Sirius' foot poking out of the invisibility cloak. They really were getting too big for that thing. Thankfully, they had already been on the third floor, and sped up to the fourth and behind the mirror just in time to avoid Filch.

They had been out of breath and flushed and were still pressed together under the cloak. Sirius had opened his mouth to say something, and Remus had clapped his hand over it to stop him. He had made eye contact, to reaffirm that Filch was still looking and listening out for them, but once he had started, he couldn't look away.

They had stayed like that for longer than strictly necessary, staring into each others eyes. Remus looked into the uncertain grey, had flashbacks of that drunken Valentines day, and felt inexplicably very hot.

He had felt Sirius' heavy breath on his fingers, coming hot and fast from slightly parted, slightly damp lips. And Remus' own panting might suddenly have been a result of something other than running.

He had let his hand drop, finally, but Sirius didn't move. The older boy had licked his lips, somewhat tentatively, still looking at Remus' eyes, and the werewolf's mouth had gone very dry. It was all very intense.

And he had chickened out.

Backed away, mumbling about getting back to the dorm and trying desperately to ignore the thoughts that had flickered through his head. Thoughts that had involved his _best friend_.

Now, sat in the common room, Remus was reminded that said friend had his head in his lap, and that he was still stroking his hair. He swallowed hard, and moved his hand away. Sirius gave him a small look that was questioning, and disappointed, and worried all at once. Remus ignored him.

Peter and James were still arguing the merits of making a map when Dorcas plopped down on the rug between their chairs and looked reproachfully at James.

' I hope you're pleased with yourself.'

' What for?'

But before she could answer, Lily Evans stomped across the room in her dressing gown, back into the girls dormitories, distinctive tear tracks glistening on her face. James had the decency to look guilty, but there was a definite, if only slight, gleam of triumph in his eyes.

**Argh! More teasing! I am sorry, I really am. I can **_**promise**_** it will be more in the next few chapters! **

**I do apologize that this is a bit of a filler chapter. There were lots of little things I wanted to include, but couldn't fit in elsewhere, so I threw them all together.**

**Also, If anyone doesn't follow the peripherals of this chapter, go back and read **_**OotP Ch, 28 Snape's Worst Memory**_** and **_**DH Ch, 33 The Prince's Tale. **_

**And that's it really, besides another big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. Thank you again for reading, Danke Shern!**


	14. An Unsure Brushing Together

**An Unsure Brushing Together**

Before anybody had quite realised, the year was over. Everyone had sat their exams, received their holiday homework assignments, and then spent a glorious week frolicking in the particularly warm June sunshine before it was time to board the train and head home.

The journey from the castle to Hogsmeade Station was a haze of sleep deprivation and hurried last minute preparations, as students who had stayed up all night packing tried desperately not to forget anything. Everyone boarded the train and looked forward to seeing their parents again.

Almost everyone, anyway.

As the Marauders found themselves a compartment and settled into the usual routine of ridicule, Sirius was oddly quiet. Everyone knew how little he liked having to go home for three months, but normally he managed to keep up the happy façade until they pulled into kings Cross.

Remus tried to catch his eye and smile in a don't-worry-it-won't-be-for-long kind of a way, but the dark haired boy folded his arms across his chest resolutely, and avoided Remus' gaze. The werewolf tried not to let it bother him.

After the usual banter about Remus' bookishness, James' hopeless pursuit of a certain redhead, Sirius' doggy mannerisms and Peter's general ineptitudes, Sirius lightened up a bit. Enough to participate in the conversation, anyway. It was always like this on the way home, and Remus always got the impression they were trying to fit in enough insults to last them the whole summer, just in case they didn't get to meet up again until September.

Remus was watching Sirius a little closer, perhaps, than it was necessary to stare at your friends. The older boy still wasn't meeting his eyes.

After the initial insults, the conversation invariably turned to pranks.

' Can you Imagine… Look on… Face,' Peter gasped out between laughs, after James' elaborate explanation of a prank designed especially for Snape. Sirius chuckled along with them, but it didn't reach his eyes.

' That,' James enthused, ' Is definitely going on The List.'

He delved into his bag, rummaged around a bit and then pulled out a rather long roll of empty parchment and a quill. Remus mouthed 'The List', as though it would make more sense coming from his own mouth, but Sirius looked equally confused. It was Peter that spoke, however.

' I hate to break it to you, Prongs, but that's not a list.'

' Pete's right, mate,' Sirius agreed. ' One of the requirements of a list is that it has something on it. Usually several things, to be fair.'

' Oh, Ye of little Faith!' James sighed melodramatically. ' I expected better from you.'

He pointed accusingly at Sirius, who raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

' I mean, really, Padfoot!' James continued, fumbling about it his pockets for his wand. ' Who leaves a list of potential pranks just lying about for any and everybody to read?'

Remus watched as Sirius' jaw actually dropped a little, mouth open and soft and pink and oddly enticing. Remus couldn't look away. The boy blinked a few times, regaining his composure, then demanded:

' You did it?'

' Have we met?' James said, incredulously. ' Of course I did!'

' You did it,' Sirius repeated, more quietly, ' And you didn't tell me?'

' Did what?' Remus and Peter asked in a comic synchronisation.

They were ignored in an equally synchronised silence. James was turning thoroughly pink, though the situation - hard as it was to follow - didn't seem to call for embarrassment of any kind.

' Why didn't you tell me?' Sirius demanded again. James made a small groaning squeak in the back of his throat. ' It's the password, isn't it? Oh, James, tell me you didn't!'

James had blanched and flushed in equal measure now, and the result was… well, splotchy. Sirius was shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and actual disappointment.

' Okay,' Remus interrupted. ' I am completely lost.'

' Me too,' Peter agreed.

' Okay,' Sirius said, turning to Peter even when he was addressing them both. ' We wanted to combine the effects of an invisible ink charm with something else, because, y'know, almost everyone can counter a simple vanishing spell, and what good is that? We wanted something more secure, so -'

' - we came up with a sort of password system,' James continued, still pink but less flustered as he explained away his brilliance. ' But we couldn't get it to work properly. We wanted it to make a whole document look blank to anybody that didn't know how to work it, but -'

' - Well, it made the words disappear, it just took the parchment with it. You remember all those burns we turned up with at the end of third year? Combustible parchment.'

' Err,' Remus said, to preoccupied trying to follow the story to recall any of the English language.

' So, the question is,' Sirius said, turning back to James. ' How did you do it?'

' Well,' James replied, with a superiority in his tone that made Remus cringe. ' It was quiet simple, really. And, you know, I _am_ rather brilliant.'

' Yes, yes,' Sirius hurried him along with a wave of his hand. ' You're fantastic, and we all love you, I'll kiss you again if you like. Just get on with it.'

' No need for threats, Padfoot. You can't rush greatness,' James said, swaying a little as he spoke. It might have been an attempt at a seated swagger, and Remus bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. ' We were enchanting the wrong thing.'

' Eh?' Peter asked, and Remus was fleetingly impressed that the boy had followed the subject well enough up to this point.

In fact, there was a pause for silence in the compartment while everyone just gawped at the smallest of them, stunned. Then Sirius blinked and turned back to James.

' How can we enchant the wrong thing, when we only had one thing to enchant?'

' No, we didn't.'

' Yeah, we did. One sodding bit of parchment with a bit of… Oh.'

' There you are, see? How simple is that? And we missed it. The infamous and brilliant Padfoot and Prongs, missed _that._'

Remus was utterly lost again, but didn't ask. Peter looked just as confused, and he gave up on trying to follow and sat back in his seat. As if sensing his incomprehension, Sirius actually looked at Remus for the first time since they boarded the train.

' You following this?' he said, disdainfully.

Remus swallowed, choking, evidently, on his pride, and shaking his head.

' The ink,' James said, excitedly. ' We were enchanting the ink.'

' Right,' Remus agreed, unsure.

Sirius rolled his eyes exasperatedly, and it made Remus feel very stupid. What had he done?

' We were enchanting the ink,' James reiterated, ' But we should've been enchanting the parchment itself.'

Remus blinked. Of course. It made sense. When the magic was channelled through the thin ink tracks, it reacted too strongly and caught fire. If you enchanted the parchment itself, you could add to the document or edit it and it's still be included in the charm. And, if they got it to work, it was a very impressive bit of magic.

Remus must still have looked blank, because Sirius gave an exaggerated sigh.

' Just show him, then, Prongs. I want to see this for myself.'

James rested the tip of his wand against the parchment he was holding and muttered something that sounded dangerously like _Lily Evans is the most beautiful person in the world_, more excited about showing off his achievement now than he was embarrassed by his choice of password. Sirius snorted, and Peter giggled, confirming Remus' suspicions.

Then, from the point where the wand touched the paper, small trails of ink appeared. They shifted and merged into words, finishing with the title - _The List -_ and underlining it with a little flourish. Only James would put a flourish on a checklist of cruel and unusual pranks, Remus thought. For a moment they all eyed the paper carefully, wary after all the tales of combustion. It didn't explode, and they all breathed out in unison.

' Wow,' Peter gasped, in complete awe, looking at James not the map.

' Sorry I ever doubted you, Prongsie,' Sirius beamed, clapping the other boy on he shoulder. ' You are a God amongst men.'

' I know, I know,' James said, not even feigning modesty.

They continued to enthuse over the spell and it's possible uses, and Remus curled up in the corner by the window and hid behind a book. It wasn't even like he could read it, his concentration was shot as he kept wondering what he had done to upset Sirius enough to blank him.

Remus had been sure to avoid any situation which involved leaving him and Sirius alone together for any prolonged period of time. He didn't want any more surprise moments of awkwardness and intensity, uncertainty and intimacy. Or maybe he did, and that was the problem. It was weird, and he was sure he shouldn't be thinking that kind of thing about one of his best friends.

He was equally as certain that Sirius was completely oblivious to all of this. They hadn't talked about what almost happened behind the mirror on the fourth floor, and Sirius had been so intoxicated on Valentines Day that he couldn't even remember James storming into the dorm covered in hideous boils.

So Remus tried his best to dismiss it. They were hormonal teenage boys, living together for nine months of the year. The first time they had been drunk, ridiculously so, and the second time they had been panicked and adrenaline fuelled. It was nothing.

Remus realised it had gotten very quiet. He peeked over the top of his book, and found himself in exactly the kind of situation he had been trying to avoid.

' Welcome back,' Sirius said, not sounding very welcoming at all with the comment that should have been playful, but wasn't.

' Where have they gone?' Remus asked, startled.

' Where do you think?' Sirius said, coldly, looking out the window. ' James is off chasing his _Lily-flower_ and Peter is hounding the Food Trolley Witch.'

' She has a name you know,' Remus said, not sure why he felt the sudden urge to defend her.

' So do you, but I don't use it too often.'

' What have I done?' Remus asked, snapping. ' Why won't you look at me?'

The boy said nothing, but crossed his arms and glared at the passing trees.

' Sometimes you act just like them, you know. For all you profess to hate them.'

It was a low blow, telling Sirius he was acting like the family he despised, but it made him look at Remus. Before he could say anything, though, James barged into the compartment, complete with a set of rabbit ears.

As Remus got to work removing said ears, which was increasingly difficult as they kept twitching, Peter also stumbled back in, arms full of goodies. Both boys were oblivious to the frostiness in the air as they recalled their journeys and adventures in carriages not ten feet away.

All too quickly, or not quickly enough, the train slowed as it began it's navigation through London. Students all around were milling up and down, grabbing their belongings and looking out of the windows for their families.

Peter was the first to depart, hurrying away to get his trunk ready so as not to keep his mother waiting.

James went next, more after Lily than anything else, and he sprinted out of the compartment in a flurry of movement and calls of 'I'll owl you later' and 'We'll meet up in a few weeks'.

The door slid shut of its own accord, blocking out the hubbub in the corridor and making it eerily quiet. Remus stood, but Sirius didn't move.

' Well…' Remus said, quietly. ' Goodbye, then.'

Sirius grunted a response. Remus stayed where he was. He didn't really want to leave this to stew for three whole months. Sirius would have enough to worry about, with his family. So Remus pressed on.

' I'm sorry,' he said, perching himself on the seat next to Sirius. ' I didn't mean what I said. I was just annoyed. You aren't anything like them.'

' I have been today,' he said, slowly.

' I shouldn't have taken it so badly, though. You always get a bit…' he wanted to say moody, but didn't want to add insult to injury and so waved his hand vaguely instead, ' … when you have to go back there.'

' It's not just that,' Sirius said, abruptly.

' Okay,' Remus said, carefully. ' You don't have to tell me…'

' I'm sorry, Moony. I've been a right tosser,' he said, putting his hand on Remus' knee and looking at him properly. ' It's just… Well, I'll miss you.'

And there was that awkward intimacy again. Remus blinked down at the hand. Sirius grimaced and made to move it, mumbling an apology. Remus was just as surprised as Sirius was when his own hand grabbed out to stop him. He stared down at their entwined fingers, stunned, and then looked up.

He hadn't realised how close they had gotten, and as he moved, his nose knocked against Sirius' chin. He moved back a little, but he caught the set determination in those grey eyes and froze.

' Uh…' he managed, before their lips met.

It wasn't really a kiss, just an unsure brushing together. But it made his lips tingle and his cheeks flush and when he tried to speak again, Sirius didn't let him. The older boy increased the pressure a fraction, and Remus' brain shut down, letting instinct take over completely.

Remus' body responded, closing his eyes and pressing forward, and then Sirius' hand was in his hair, palm pressing gently against his neck, fingers pulling him closer. His thumb brushed under Remus' ear and along his jaw and he let out a little gasp at the sensation.

Sirius, never having been the most cautious of people, didn't miss the opportunity to deepen the kiss. They had gotten this far, after all. Remus felt excitement and terror knot together in the pit of his stomach, even as Sirius' lips slid softly against his own.

He exhaled sharply, even as his lungs screamed for air, and gasped again when Sirius nipped his lip with his teeth. Even as the other boy mumbled an apology, Remus shivered in delight at the combination of the vibrations on his mouth and hot, heavy breath against his face.

Then, with a start, he remembered the hand, which was no longer on his knee, but was inching it's way up towards his hip. His best friends hand. _Sirius' _hand. His breath caught in his throat, making a small squeaky croak of a protest.

It was enough.

Sirius pulled back, grey eyes significantly less certain than they had been, now wide and full of desire and confusion. Remus only blinked, aware that his own brown ones probably reflected exactly the same thing.

The sound of their ragged breathing echoed around the still compartment and when Remus didn't explain himself, Sirius stood in silence and left without another word.

Remus just stared at the space Sirius had occupied a moment earlier, catching his breath. The compartment door slammed itself shut, making him jump. Without the body pressing against him, he suddenly felt unnaturally cold, and very, very alone.

**So, here you go. **

**Wahey! Contact, at last! That very awkward first kiss is happily dedicated to AtraThestral, who has waited very patiently for it.**

**Okay, I don't normally beg for reviews, but I would really appreciate them in this instance. I haven't ever written anything like this before, and I don't want to disappoint, so please let me know what you think. **

**Also, I am just letting you guys know, I am having a few days of self-restriction and banning myself from he internet. I have "real" work to do, and I keep procrastinating, so I'm going to work my arse off all weekend to get it finished, and then I can continue updating early next week.**

**Once again, thank you for reading and Danke shern!**


	15. Echoes of Memories or Madness

**Echoes of Memories or Madness**

Sirius Black was in the cellar.

It wasn't a very pleasant cellar - all dark and damp and, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, more than a little unnerving. It always feels like the wall are staring at him in that place, and Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was so imbued with dark magic, he couldn't really be sure that they weren't.

As such, he was sitting in roughly the middle of the room, away from the slimy edges of the enclosed space, knees drawn up to his chest.

He thoroughly deserved to be there, his mother insisted. It was for his own good. But then, Walburga had always believed that. Ever since that first time, when he was five, and his Aunt had visited with her daughters.

Sirius' father, Orion, had referred to the visit as a 'social call', a casual meeting to maintain the bonds of relation. Even at five, Sirius had doubted this. He had only met his cousins once before that, at his grandfathers Christmas Ball. He had later realised - and been outraged - that they had come to goggle at him. To view - to judge - the Black Family Heir like a piece of meat they were being forced to buy. At the time, though, he had only been annoyed at having his home suddenly full of girls.

He hadn't liked any of them.

His Aunt Druella was a thin, blonde and beautiful woman. Almost delicate. But her attitude was anything but, and she fit in to the family like she had been raised in it. She reminded Sirius of his Great Aunt Cassiopeia, a born and bred Black, who was a dominating woman, but trained in the art of subtlety and manipulation. She got what she wanted without having to demand it - A delicately raised eyebrow and pursed lips were as good as a bellowed order for these women.

And the sisters… Never have siblings been more different. Sirius wasn't particularly close to his brother anymore, but stand them side by side and you couldn't mistake the relation. The same could not be said for these girls.

Bellatrix was the eldest member of the fifth generation of Blacks, and she made sure everyone knew it. She was darkly beautiful, with heavy eyes and a strong jaw inherited entirely from her father. Her thin lips and small nose were her mothers contribution, and her eyes were a blue contrasting her dark complexion and hinting at the madness within. She hated Sirius with a passion, probably because - had she been born a boy - she would have everything he was going to inherit.

Andromeda had the same handsome features of her father, and his darker eyes. She was fairer than her sister, though, and decidedly more sane. Her long brown hair gave her an intrinsic look of intelligence, and she reminded Sirius of his old Matron. When she smiled at him though, it wasn't laced with spite and ill intention, but kindness. Sirius thought he liked her best.

And then Narcissa. She was entirely her mothers daughter - pale and blonde and delicate, and manipulative. She was ridiculously impressionable, near idolising her mother and sisters. She eyed Sirius and his brother, who was still only a toddler, very differently to the others. Sirius realised now that she had been all too aware, at nine years old, that she may very well have had to marry one of them eventually. It made him feel a little sick.

Sirius had thankfully been ignored for most of the visit. Kept upstairs with Regulus and Matron Kalista, while his mother paraded her sister-in-law around the house. Eventually, though, he was stuffed into an uncomfortable set of dress robes and forced into a chair at the table for the formal dinner.

All the best decorations were out - Solid silver serving plates and cutlery, the very best china, Goblin wrought goblets imprinted with the family crest and those bloody awful words of a motto. He was sat between his father and his brother, his mother sat stiffly to Regulus' right. His aunt and cousins were seated opposite, spines straightened equally unnaturally. It had felt to Sirius like a life-sized game of chess, all forced pleasantries and formal politeness with the underlying malicious intent. Every move seemed strategically planned out, and he half expected his father to tent his fingers as he smirked and declared 'checkmate'.

' He's the family Heir?' Narcissa had asked in a loud whisper.

Druella had nodded curtly, scowling down the table at Sirius. He supposed she was cursing her rotten luck at having three girls, when all she needed was one boy. But it was too late now.

' But he's so little!' Bellatrix had commented, without the courtesy to mumble. ' He's like Emil.'

' And who, may I ask, is Emil?' Walburga had asked, more kindly than she ever spoke to her sons.

' One of the pups,' Druella had explained. ' We had a litter recently. Mastiffs, you know, excellent creatures. Good breeding.'

' Emil was the runt,' Bella chimed in again, smiling in a sickeningly childish way. ' Me and Daddy drowned him.'

' Father and I,' Druella chided, apparently unfazed about her fourteen-year-old daughter murdering animals.

Sirius had gawped at her, receiving a clip around the head from his father for his troubles. He hadn't cared.

' You just killed him?' he yelled. ' But he didn't do anything!'

Another sharp cuff around the ear. His aunt frowned at him as though she had just scraped him off the bottom of her shoe.

' Hm,' she had said, looking distastefully down her nose, ' Best thing to do with the weak ones.'

' Being small doesn't make you weak!' Sirius had protested, receiving yet another blow to the head.

She sniffed once more at him, then turned to his father.

' Sometimes you can beat it out of them, but not usually.' Sirius got the impression they weren't discussing dogs anymore. ' I wouldn't worry, Orion. Even the best bloodlines get them.'

Sirius had been furious and hurt all at once, and it had made him dizzy. He knew he should have been angry because she had spoken to him like that, but really he was just angry at the rejection.

Honestly, the reason for his anger didn't matter. What was important was that his body - his livid, five-year-old, _Magical_ body - had decided to channel that feeling by causing all the crockery on his Aunts side of the table to shatter, rather violently.

There had been screaming, he could remember. And blood. Lots of blood. But then, there would be, considering pretty blonde Narcissa decided to put her delicate little face in the firing line of splintered shards of china.

After sitting through a lecture he'd heard many times before about how _those kind of outbursts_ were for Mudbloods, who were ignorant and undeserving of magic and therefore couldn't control it, Sirius had received a beating, which wasn't unusual, and been locked in the cellar for an hour, which was.

Back then, the darkness had been enormous. Hiding the walls, echoing every movement. When something scuttled about in the shadows, it sounded like it was miles away, sneaking up on you slowly. Now it was too small. In the back of his mind, Sirius knew he had grow significantly in eleven years, since than first time.

But sat there now, huddled in the cloying darkness, he could believe the walls were closing in on him, crushing him. He felt his breath growing erratic, and tried to calm it down.

He tried to think of James, who he'd be seeing in a few weeks, when his parents took Regulus to see the wonders of the world. They had long since given up on trying to imbue a sense of culture into their outcast son, but they still travelled for a full two months of the summer holidays, taking their youngest to many an exotic country.

Something echoed to the left, something moving. Sirius shivered despite himself, his heart hammering in his chest.

He focused on the Potters. Their Manor, just as big as Grimmauld Place, but significantly brighter. The walls their were all white, flowers growing in every spare space. The mood itself was always happy, loving. Mrs Potter, an older witch with rusty-grey hair and kind hazel eyes, would always greet him with a hug. She'd bake treats for him and James to get fat on, and then give them heavy-duty housework tasks to burn it off again. Mr Potter was tall and thin and his hair was still black even in his age, he was always interested in their antics, and he talked to Sirius like he talked to James - like family.

Something furry and cold brushed across Sirius' toes, which were bare and exposed. He shuddered and gasped in a breath as he felt his chest tighten. That was what bothered him down here, the anticipation. Waiting for something to happen.

That made him think of Moony. The full moon had been the night before. Maybe that was what put him on edge yesterday dinnertime, and he hadn't been able to resist the chance to argue with his mother about some triviality or other. And now he was here, trapped in a dark basement, just like Remus had been last night. Waiting.

He immediately felt terrible for comparing his self-inflicted confinement to Remus' necessary precautions. In fact, he felt terrible when ever he thought of Remus these days. It was getting a little tiresome, if he was honest. He had no reason to feel so bad about it.

' I liked someone, so I kissed them,' he said aloud. ' Nothing weird about that.'

_No._ A little voice in the back of his head replied. _What makes it weird is that that someone is one of your best friends._

' Doesn't matter,' he mumbled.

_What does, _the voice drawled, _is that he didn't want you. He stopped you._

Sirius didn't have an answer to that. He liked to believe that he was right, that Remus felt something too, that all those little gestures - like rubbing just right at that spot behind his ear - actually meant something. But he couldn't be sure.

_Nobody wants you,_ the voice continued. _And why would they. Why would he?_

' I'll just have to talk to him about it,' Sirius decided, ignoring the voice - which he was starting to imagine looked like his Aunt Druella, glaring down her pointed little nose at him.

Rather suddenly, the door was flung open. Sirius shielded his eyes from the light assaulting his eyes and squinted up at the figure outlined in the doorframe. The movement aggravated the bruises on his ribs - his fathers reaction to the fight with his mother.

' Get up.'

Regulus' voice echoes off the stone walls, cold and detached.

' You're talking to yourself,' he drawls, ' and Mother would like to know if you've gone mad.'

' Only the same as the rest of the family, then,' Sirius muttered, dragging himself to his feet and stumbling towards the candle-lit corridor.

' I don't have any other brothers,' Regulus snarled, ' that are huddled in the basement mumbling about kissing boys.'

Bugger.

**Okay, here we go. **

**Firstly, thank you everyone for the responses to the last chapter. I was a little worried about it, and I really appreciate your thoughts. Thank you very much!**

**Secondly, this is the first of a few Sirius-based chapters and they'll probably be a bit darker than of the others. What else could you expect, in Grimmauld Place! But, nevertheless, you have been warned. **

**And don't worry, Sirius hasn't gone mad. He's just talking to himself. I do it all the time… :D **

**Okay, maybe that doesn't help. Meh. Thank you for reading, reviews are appreciated very much. Danke shern! **


	16. The Lengths to Which Parents Will Go

**The Lengths To Which Parents Will Go**

The majority of Grimmauld Place was dank and dark and completely void of any primary colours. Orion Black's study was no exception. The man wasn't present now, being out somewhere on some urgent business matter or other, and so it was Walburga pacing the room instead. She had been doing so for rather a long time now, and Sirius' mind was wandering.

He ran his eyes over the wall-length bookshelves that covered the right side of the room. The shelves themselves were a dark wood, possibly mahogany, and groaned under the weight of the heavy, leather-bound books. They were all old and faded, and had a distinct aura of wickedness about them. He had opened one once, as a child, and it had screamed at him. He had avoided the study as often as possible since.

Walburga finally stopped, squarely in front of Sirius, back ramrod straight, and folded her arms across her chest. She raised her chin a ridiculous amount, apparently to increase the amount of nose she had to look down at him with.

He was slouched right down in a particularly uncomfortable chair, feet crossed at the ankle, arms dangling off the edge of the wooden frame, head carelessly lolling to one side. He didn't meet her eyes, and she cleared her throat loudly.

He raised his eyes slowly, knowing he shouldn't antagonise her, but not being able to stop himself. He met the slate eyes, so like his own, and raised an insolent eyebrow.

She struck him across the face, hard and fast.

He blinked. His cheek buzzed with the sensation, his eyes stinging. He looked back up at her, mouth opened to speak, and she slapped him again. This time, he bit his lip, hard. He blinked again, dazed, slowly licking away the blood.

When he raised his head again, she grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the room. Off-footed and unsuspecting, he had no choice but to be pulled along the corridor. Her heeled shoes clattered on the floor, despite the carpet, as she stomped towards the stairs. She shoved him heavily to the floor beneath the grotesque row of house elf heads, and drew her wand.

' Up,' she said, voice even but venomous.

He jumped to his feet, ribs aching and his face stinging, hands balled into fists as he glared at her impassive face with as much loathing as he could. She gave him a warning look, and twitched her wand threateningly. He narrowed his eyes, but obeyed.

She directed him to the drawing room, where she knocked him backwards into yet another uncomfortable chair. His spine collided painfully with the wood, and he swore. While he was distracted, she flicked her wand again and he felt himself pressed firmly back into the seat, like someone was sitting on top of him. He tensed his arms, but he couldn't move them.

Sirius, still struggling against the spell, looked up at the woman he despised. She was stood proudly, her hand on her hip in a display of casual elegance that was wasted on such a harpy.

' Kreacher,' she called, snapping her fingers.

The house elf apparated and bowed low to Walburga's feet, his bulbous nose brushing the floor and his ears flopping about. Without lifting his head, he held out his arm and a small vial of water, and croaked, ' As Mistress requested.'

' Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all.'

The elf glared at Sirius curiously, with a strange sort of disappointment in his huge eyes, before he nodded and returned to the kitchens. Walburga opened the vial with a little _pop_, and grabbed Sirius' face with her cold fingers. Her nails dug into the flesh of his neck and cheeks, catching the swollen red imprint of her hand. He gasped in pain, and she didn't hesitate in pouring the water into his mouth and clamping his jaw shut again. She pinched his nose until he swallowed.

After a few seconds, he felt very light-headed. It was like floating backwards in his own mind, and watching his body act of it's own accord. He could feel his jaw go slack, his eyes lose focus, but he couldn't do anything about it. He noticed she had seated him directly facing the Family Tree Tapestry, and fleetingly wondered where this was going.

' Now,' she said, quietly. ' The names of your friends.'

' James Potter,' his voice said, without him telling it to. It sounded dreamy. ' Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin.'

' Don't you know any girls?'

' Dorcas Meadows. Lily Evans, but she much doesn't like me.'

Oh, God. It was like verbal vomit, he couldn't stop himself. He should've realised before. Idiot. Mixed with the water, Veritaserum.

' What are their blood-statuses?' She whispered, nastily, grabbing his face again with her nails.

' James is pureblood. Peter and Remus are half.'

' And the others?'

_No! No, don__'t you even think about it!_ he shouted at himself, willed himself not to talk.

' I don't know about Dorcas, but with a name like that she's probably got wizarding relatives in there somewhere. Evans is muggleborn.'

Her eyes glinted dangerously, and he was reminded for a moment just how mad his mother was at times. She hissed her disgust, her once beautiful face twisting into that familiar sneer, but she didn't shout. She hadn't asked what she wanted to yet, she had to stay focused.

' You've kissed them?' she said, like it was the most repulsive act she could fathom, making it a question so he had to answer.

' Yes.'

' Which?'

' All of them.'

She looked momentarily taken aback, and blinked a few times. Obviously not the answer she was expecting and, when Sirius thought abut it, it really did sound worse than it was. Ninety percent of those kisses had been a joke, or over-enthusiastic spur-of-the-moment friendly affection. But because she didn't ask, he couldn't explain.

' Boys?' she bit out.

' Yes.'

She paused again, eyes blazing. She was visibly struggling to contain her rage. She was swallowing a lot, and he hoped the bile in her throat burned her vocal chords clean away. She wasn't focusing now, and he felt the spell binding his arms easing even as his regained control of his own body.

Finally she shook her head and muttered, more to herself, ' Do you deliberately defy me at every possible occasion?'

' Yeah,' he answered, regardless.

Her eyes snapped back to his, furious, and the glance was enough to realise the effects of the potion had worn off. Most notably because he was glaring up at her again.

' You insolent little -'

She made to strike him again, but he was ready for it this time and caught her wrist. She made a small surprised sound, obviously not realising she had forgotten to maintain the binding hex. He tightened his grip on her arm.

' Do. Not. Hit me. Again.'

Sirius warned, taking her preferred tack and punctuating each word slowly and dangerously. He was angry now, and indignant. He had never expected much from his family, and he was used to the regular beatings and scathing remarks while he was here for the summer. But force feeding him potions was a new low.

And, he couldn't help but wonder, if they were willing to sink to truth potions, how much further would they go to control him? They certainly weren't against dark magic, would they hesitate to use the Imperious Curse on their own flesh and blood?

_Probably not_, came the resounding, undoubting answer.

He threw the arm he was holding back at the banshee it belonged to, suddenly disgusted he had touched it at all. She rubbed her sore wrist, madness rising in her eyes.

' I will not have the men of this family - The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black - cavorting about with other boys!' She hissed through her teeth.

' Not your dear brother then,' he ground out.

' Alphard,' she spat, ' is dangerously close to going the same way as your cousin.'

She waved a finger threateningly at the burnt hold in the Tapestry, right between Bellatrix and Narcissa. Andromeda had the right idea, Sirius thought. Getting out as quickly as she could.

' And you will be, unless you start listening to me…'

' No,' he shouted, not letting her go on, ' You listen to me, for once, you incessant old hag! I will do what makes me happy, not what you tell me to do! I am not a Slytherin! I am not a Dark Wizard! And I am most certainly not going to choose my friends based on their blood purity! I can do what I want. And who, for that matter.'

' You can do no such thing!' She screeched, voice rising as she spoke. ' You, disgraced as you are, are the Heir to this Noble family! You will get married to a nice Pureblood girl, and you _will_ continue our Ancient bloodline.'

' You what?' he said, startled by this declaration.

' I can ignore that you choose to speak like a common Muggle,' she said, not quite shouting now. ' I can overlook your sorting. I can even forgive your desperately misguided selection of appropriate company. The only thing we require of you is continuity for our esteemed family name.'

He stared at her for a minute, utterly lost for words. He had always known that's why they hadn't disowned him and put him out on the street the moment he had been declared a Gryffindor. But it had never been spoken aloud before.

He took a breath, put on his best look of disinterest and spoke in a calm, steady tone.

' No.'

' What did you say?' she screamed.

' I said no.'

Before he realised she was moving, she had stunned him. With several spells, judging by the exploding pain in his chest. His vision blurred with shock and pain and sudden movement, as he felt himself being dragged again. He was thrown into a room, the door slamming shut.

' Well just see what your Father has to say about this!' she was bellowing in the hall, followed by the usual rant about mud-bloods and half-bloods and blood traitors.

He touched a tentative hand to his bruised ribs, swallowing hard.

He knew exactly what he Father would have to say.

**Here we are, another chapter. **

**I did warn you it wouldn't be very nice. **

**I decided to go with a sort of Old-fashioned-Royal-Family attitude to homosexuality. Which is to say, 'we don't care who you fancy, as long as you make babies and continue the bloodline'.**

**I also didn't want to make Walburga completely raving mad just yet. I figure the hints have got to be there, that sick little glint in her eye and the knack for sadism. But I don't think she completely lost it until 1979, the year Regulus and Orion died. **

**Thank you once again to everyone reading, and especially so to those reviewing. It really does make my day, thank you and enjoy. Danke! Merci! Tak!**


	17. Discussions with Paintings

**Discussions with Paintings**

Sirius lifted his shirt, and gently prodded the swollen purple skin he found there. It was as tender as it looked and his body jerked in protest, which rattled his aching chest, making him grimace, which in turn agitated the stinging skin of his face.

' Bloody hell,' he gasped, trying stay still.

He hadn't felt this bad since he was much younger. Walburga didn't usually strike him herself, which made it all the more disturbing when he recalled her actions of the last hour. Maybe she really was going completely mad, just as her father had. It wasn't uncommon in this family. Sirius shuffled backwards until his back hit a solid surface, then he rested his head against it and closed his eyes.

' Sulking is not becoming of your heritage.'

To most sixteen-year-olds, in most houses, hearing a strange voice in an empty room would be a very peculiar occurrence. Sirius Black, however, was not like most sixteen-year-olds and number twelve Grimmauld Place was definitely not like most houses.

' Bugger off, Phineas,' he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

' That is no way to address your elders, and betters,' the pompous voice replied.

' If I was better at that, I probably wouldn't be here would I?'

' You deserve it, I'm sure.'

' Undoubtedly,' Sirius replied, tiredly.

' This is why I always hated teaching…'

' Not because you were the most unpopular headmaster that school had ever seen, then?'

' You young people are constantly striving to be misunderstood. You shout and fight and make a ridiculous fuss about nothing, just so you have a reason to feel sorry for yourself.'

' So leave, if I bother you so much.'

' Oh, no,' he said, sounding smug. ' Watching you suffer for your ineptitude is rather more entertaining than retreating back to an empty Headmaster's office.'

Sirius sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding now, and he was beginning to feel a bit nauseous. At any other time he would have argued and offended his ancestors portrait until the little man stormed back to his other frame. But not today. Phineas, however, had other ideas.

' So,' he said, slowly. ' What did you do this time?'

' What, the great Phineas Nigellus Black can't be arsed to go downstairs and ask his fellow Grimmauld portraits?'

' I was rather hoping for a first-hand account.'

' You can ask that fat little hag with the skulls then, in the Drawing Room. She was watching avidly, and I'm sure she'll delight in a little malicious gossiping.'

Phineas didn't respond to the standoffishness in Sirius' voice, but there was a breif silence. Sirius finally lifted his head, propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes furiously in a bid to clear his head - which was growing rapidly more fuzzy.

' When I was young we never sulked.'

' That was a long time ago,' Sirius mumbled. He was ignored.

' We respected our elders, our parents. And we were happy to do so.'

Sirius snorted at that. He had never, in sixteen years of being showboated about to obscure relatives, met a member of the Black family who could qualify as happy. Single-minded, yes, and definitely determined. Maybe proud to a degree of contentment. Satisfied, even, was a good word for life as a Black. But never happy. Once again, Sirius' interruption was overlooked.

' Your namesake, you know, was my elder brother. He died aged eight. Terrible case of Scrofungulus. We were devastated, of course, as any _decent_ brother would be. A perfectly good Pureblood boy dead before his time. Tragic. But did we sulk? No. Did I curl up in a corner and weep? No. Did he…?'

' I'm surmising not, being dead and all.'

The painted man _humphed_ loudly then stormed out of his frame, leaving only a muddy brown backdrop. He would only wander down to the Drawing Room, though, then he'd be back with a pronounced sneer and more snide remarks.

Sirius rubbed the heels of his palms across his face once more, then decided to try standing up. It was a wobbly, painful attempt, but he managed to pull himself into a crouch. Another deep breath and a heave which took more effort than it had any right to demand, and he was up.

If only for a moment, before he collapsed onto the bed.

He was breathing heavier than he should have been, and wondered briefly if his ribs were broken. His lungs were burning and it seemed like they could take in enough air. He resolved to catch his breath before trying to move again. When Phineas returned five minutes later, he hadn't moved.

' Hmm,' the painting said, a note of morbid amusement in the noise. ' Like _that_ is it. Cavorting about with…'

Sirius didn't let him finish. His head was spinning, his whole body aching, and he was sick of the patronisation in everybody's words.

' Why do you all say _cavorting_, like it something you've never done? KISSING! Is it that hard to say? How about Snogging? Is that better? Ooh, and SHAGGING!' He giggled a little manically, bordering on full on hysterics, and pointed accusingly at the painting. ' I mean you had, what, four - five kids, right? You telling me you managed that without having yourself a good, proper fuck?'

The portrait grimaced, but Sirius only half registered it. He had opened the floodgates of his frustration, and now he couldn't force them shut until the torrent had passed.

' All your bloody parents fault, I suppose. With their sodding obsession with blood purity, and the only goal in life to produce a shitting Heir! And what did you end up with, hmm? A bunch of bloody inbreeds with seriously fucked up minds! Is that what you wanted your descendants to achieve? Enter a marriage completely void of intimacy - spawn out a few unloved children - go round the fucking twist - then die way too sodding young. Well, you must be proud, 'cause that's exactly what you bloody got!'

Sirius finally stopped to catch his breath. He had been pacing the room, but he couldn't remember getting off the bed. Rather than making him feel better, the ranting had increased his headache and the nausea was becoming unbearable. The walls felt like they were closing in. By this point, Phineas had trained his expression to decidedly indifferent.

' Are you quite finished?' he enquired politely, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

' Hmm,' Sirius mumbled, closing his eyes and covering his mouth for fear he might vomit. ' Don't feel well. Wish Remus was here. He'd know what to do.'

' Remus?' the painted man exclaimed, though Sirius couldn't fathom the surprise in his voice. Or the sudden malignancy. ' Remus Lupin?'

' How many other Remuses are there in Gryffindor.'

' Hmm,' Phineas said, that horrid informed smugness back in his tone. ' I knew the situation was dire, bit I never imagined it would involve bestiality as well. I'd like to say I expected better of you but, if I'm honest, I've never been sure.'

Sirius didn't catch the last remark, having frozen at 'bestiality'. He spun to face the portrait so quickly he nearly pitched over, feeling the colour drain from his face.

' You know about…'

He hesitated. He didn't know how much to say in case he was mistaken. The snooty little man didn't leave him to dwell on that hope.

' Of course I do. As you so kindly pointed out earlier, I was a Headmaster of our Esteemed School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was present when Professor Dumbledore wrote the letter to request the attendance of your filthy little Half-breed friend. I tried to dissuade him, in fact, but that man is nothing if not eccentric to a fault.'

' Oh,' Sirius breathed. Then the panic rose up in place of the nausea. ' You can't - they can't - tell them - can't know - mustn't… Oh God. Oh. God.'

' How very unbecoming,' Phineas replied. Then added, half heartedly, ' I'm not going to tell them anything.'

Taking a long, slow breath it felt like he had been waiting years for, Sirius whispered, ' Thank you.'

Phineas snorted. ' It is not for you, my pathetic relative. I am bound to serve the current Headmaster of Hogwarts and, as such, have been forbidden to divulge that information to anybody, family or no. But this knowledge shall serve as a source of infinite humour for myself for many years, I assure you.'

' You are a right insufferable little bastard, you know,' Sirius said, but he was feeling a little better after that instance of utter panic.

' What was it, you said. "So leave, if I bother you so much."'

Sirius paused for a moment, a rush of very sudden - and very brash - ideas in his head, before he said, ' You know what, Phineas. You are exactly right.'

' Why, yes. I do have a tendency to be,' he said, frowning. ' But… Might I ask what I am right about, in this instance?'

' Leaving,' Sirius said, simply.

The fog in his head was clearing somewhat now that he had something to focus on. His wand was in his bedroom, on the uppermost floor of the house, along with his trunk and all of his school things. If he could get up there, he could summon his broom from the basement. If only he could get out of this room.

He pressed his hand to the wood of the door, which he knew hadn't been silenced. More importantly he knew, as he hand made contact, that it wasn't Imperturbable Charmed.

' Well that's good,' he mumbled to himself.

' It is still locked, in case you had forgotten,' Phineas offered, helpfully. ' And you are wand-less.'

' So I am,' Sirius replied almost cheerfully, his mood improving by the minute.

Now he just had to hope he still had what he needed in his pockets. He rummaged about in his outer robes for a few minutes, finding only useless bits of rubbish - A few faulty dung bombs from the journey home, a handkerchief crusty with a questionable substance and a Muggle padlock with no key.

' What are you doing?' The painting asked, as Sirius tried his inside pockets instead, injecting as much disdain into the words as possible.

' Trying to find -' He threw some empty chocolate frog wrappers to the floor. '- know it's here somewhere -' he felt his eyebrows furrow as he switched pockets, then grinned and exclaimed, ' Ah! Here we go!'

' What, in the name of Salazar Slytherin, are you going to do with that tiny bit of metal?'

' This, my good man, is a bobby pin. Something Muggle girls use to pin their hair back, or some such rubbish.'

' I'm sure it is vitally important for you not to have hair in your eyes.'

' Oh, no. That isn't what _I_ use them for.'

Without offering further explanation Sirius crouched by the door, ignoring the painful twinge of his ribs, and inserted the pin into the lock. He fiddled for a few moments, but it didn't feel right without James hurrying him along in the background, so he spoke.

' Wonderful thing about you supremacist purebloods. You always underestimate Muggles. As such, that banshee is have the misfortune of calling my mother has protected this lock against magical tampering - rather well, I have to say. If I had used _Alohomora_, I'd probably be unconscious on the floor.'

' And you think Muggle tricks will work?'

' This is a nice little _Muggle trick _Peter taught me, and if I just -' he gave the pin a final twist and the lock gave a satisfying _click _'- Oh yes, there we are.'

He tried the door, and it swung open without protest. Sirius raised his eyebrow in a way that clearly said _I told you so_ before he left the disgruntled looking painting in the room alone.

Sirius slowly, and as quietly as he could, padded up the stairs to his bedroom. He could hear his mother shouting at a house-elf several floors down, and he knew his father wouldn't be back yet. Regulus was in his own room, with the door tightly closed, and Sirius held his breath as he passed it, just in case.

He eased the heavy door of his bedroom open, and stepped inside before closing it just as gently. Fortunately, he hadn't unpacked any of his school things and his trunk stood packed and ready by his bed. He closed his eyes and willed his head to stop pounding, while he thought.

' No,' he told himself. ' Bugger the thinking, just need to get out.'

He grabbed his wand from the bedside table, scanned the room one last time for anything he might need. He paused for a moment on the one magical photograph in the room - the Marauders. It was his only picture of them, but he had used a Permanent Sticking Charm to stop him family taking it down while he was at school.

' I'll just get another one,' he said, then raised his wand, ' _accio broom.'_

He vaguely registered an alarm beeping loudly from the kitchen. One of his Father's precautions, no doubt. Now he couldn't hesitate. He levitated his trunk to the window, which he flung open by hand. His broom, the latest Cleansweep, which had been sorely disused since his Quidditch ban, hovered obediently outside.

He clambered out of the window, ignoring the flaring pains as he moved quickly. As he righted himself into position he heard heavy footfalls in the hallway, then the bedroom door slammed open. He didn't turn to see who it was.

Not entirely sure where he was going, he just flew.

At first, the feeling of the air rushing by made him feel pretty good. He was free. It'd taken him five years to pluck up the courage to do it, but he'd gotten out. He'd be of age in a few months, and then he could do whatever he wanted.

Then the toll of flying began to weigh him down. His body was screaming in discomfort, his ribs aching painfully in protest. His fingers were numb in the cool wind, and his grip was slackening. At this rate, he wouldn't make it to seventeen.

Without really thinking about it, he descended. It was sloppy, and he fell off the broom a few feet before he touched the ground.

He was in a field. Or a garden. A big one. There was a house. Also big. And oddly familiar.

He tried to sit up, and get a better look. The security light by the door flickered to life, and the silhouettes of two people came out. He could hear voices. Someone asked him a question.

He opened his mouth to answer, but everything went black.

**I am very sorry for the wait for this chapter. I wrote it out, but wasn't happy with it, so I've kept tweaking it. I'm still not sure, but it'll do. Hopefully it isn't too bad.**

**Yes, I love Phineas Nigellus. Brilliant character, with far to little book-time. Then again, I love most of the Blacks, twisted as they are.**

**I have the next chapter half written already, and I am a lot happier with it, so it should be up soon.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and thank you for reading. Feedback is always appreciated, let me know if this chapter wasn't a complete disappointment. Danke! **


	18. Mild Organisational Compulsions

****

**Mild Organisational Compulsions**

Usually, trains were relaxing.

Or at least, they were for Remus.

Usually, he liked watching the scenery pass the window in a whiz of colour - be it the angular cityscape greys, or the sprawling lazy countryside greens, or the dark shadowed forest browns splattered with wild bright flowers in vivid reds and blues and purples. Or, indeed, anything in between.

Usually, he enjoyed watching the crowds of people - interesting people, all unique and, at the same time, all so similar. He was always fascinated by the simple social interactions he found so complicated - a gentle touch here, a friendly punch there. All the little intricacies of intimacy that he could never hope to understand.

Usually, he found the movements of the train, and the noises it made, soothing. The gentle rocking motions of the carriage swaying to keep in line with the others, and the rhythmic clicking sound the wheels made as they passed the joints in the track. On more than one occasion, the combination of these calming factors had been enough to send him off to sleep.

Not today thought.

Today, Remus wasn't watching the flitting scenes outside the window. Today, he was trying to ignore the other passengers. Today, the jiggling movements were making him feel ill, and the constant clinking was giving him a headache.

Of course, today happened to be only two days after the full moon.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, and when he looked up again an old woman sat adjacent was smiling kindly at him.

' Are you alright, dear? You look a trifle pale.'

He tried to smile back at her, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd succeeded, ' Just a little travel sickness. I'll be fine when we've stopped.'

She smiled again, accepting the answer and turning away. In truth, the aching in his joints and the tugging cramps in his muscles wouldn't subside for several days, and he felt a bit guilty for lying. It wasn't a complete lie, of course. The continuous rattling of the carriage was certainly not helping him to recover.

Remus rested his head back against his chair. He was exhausted, but had given up on the idea of sleep several hours ago. It was more than just his discomfort keeping him awake, his mind too distracted to shut down for long enough to get any rest. He felt for the papers he had stuffed in his pocket, and fished them out.

He glanced at the letters now piled in his lap. He could, if he wanted to, recite them by heart by now, but he kept re-reading them anyway. They were stacked - _in true Moony style_ a voice that sounded distinctly like a certain flea-ridden animagus reminded him - in the order they had arrived. This could have been the result of a mild organisational compulsion, or because it allowed Remus to stare down at the elegantly formed, if a little rushed, curving handwriting of Sirius Black.

_Moony,_

_I heard James scratching away with his quill, so I am writing to tell you to ignore most of his letter. All pointless drivel, I'm sure. _

_In answer to the questions you no doubt have; Yes, I did. Yes, I am. And no, not really, I'll live. _

_You have other things to worry about, I'm fine. _

_Pads._

This, of course, had made very little sense when it had arrived spontaneously the Monday after the July Moon, while Remus' brain was still bleary from exertion. That is, until twenty or so minutes later another owl landed, bearing a significantly longer letter.

_Remus,_

_I hope this finds you recovering well from your usual bout of furriness, err, illness. Sorry we couldn't be there to help you get through it, and hopefully it wasn't too bad without our calming influence._

Remus grimaced every time he read that sentence, his free hand jumping to the newly numbed strip of flesh across the bridge of his nose.

_Hah hah, I know how funny that sounds. Us. Calming. Hah, hah and hah again!_

_I have some news to cheer you up though! Sirius is living with me! Well, he doesn't know it yet. But mum is adamant that we couldn't possibly put him out on the street - I know, I don't get it either. And stop pulling that face. You know the one, with the eyebrows and the half-frown and looking all parent-y. She knows what she's in for. And before you ask, Yes, she is most certainly a bit loopy._

_Anyway, I digress. _

_Back to the important stuff. Now, I don't want you to worry or anything, but he was in pretty bad shape when he landed. And by 'landed' I mean 'crashed into our garden, just missing the pond, and nearly giving the cat a heart-attack'._

_He's okay! Don't panic! Would I be joking if he was seriously hurt? Okay, yes, probably, but he wasn't so it doesn't matter. Mum fixed him up pretty well, lucky she's had me as a son for sixteen years and is well practiced in the application of dittany and the correct dosages of Skele-Gro. _

_I've tried to get him to talk about it, but he won't. I suppose I can't blame him, really. But, maybe you could try when you see him. You'll have to come stay with us for a bit, I'll sort it out with mum and dad. _

_I suppose the important thing is that he got out, right? He doesn't ever have to see them again. That's good, right? That's what matters. Remember that, okay?_

_Anyway, I can hear him banging about in my room and I really don't need anything else breaking. I'll write you soon, try not to worry and take care of yourself._

_James._

While not entirely sensical, this at least explained a few things, and Remus had gone back to look at Sirius' letter now that he had rudimentary understanding of the situation. He almost laughed at how well Padfoot could predict his thoughts, as he rattled through the predefined answers to his questions. _He really ran away?_ Yes, I did. _Is he alright?_ Yes, I am. _Does he want to talk about it?_ No, not really, I'll live.

Remus had no further contact for another three weeks. He had tried to take James' advice, and not worry. Tried to convince himself they had just gotten carried away with driving Mrs Potter mad, and causing all the trouble they could fathom without Peter to include or Remus reminding them of his prefect status.

But his mind kept picking out segments from the letter, and forming the worst possible scenarios in his head. Dittany and Skele-Gro? How bad had he been? He had crashed his broom, which was unheard of. _Mum fixed him up pretty well_? What did that even mean! Either she fixed it or she didn't.

Some things were unavoidable, he supposed. And one of those things was the fact that Remus John Lupin was a worrier. There was nothing to be done about it.

As such, the relief was palpable when the same tawny owl that had delivered James letter appeared with another attached firmly to it's leg. This one was written in Sirius' best schooled-since-I-could-hold-a-pen script, large swirled letters entwined into words.

_To the most esteemed Mister Moony,_

_Probably in a great deal of discomfort,_

_Curled up with a book,_

_Somewhere obscure._

_Messrs Padfoot and Prongs hereby cordially invite you to vacation with them at Potter Manor for the remainder of the holidays. _

_The good sirs also feel it prudent to relay to you the immediate and pointed ignorance of any response shying from an affirmative._

_Avidly awaiting your confirmation,_

_Severely dampening the spirits of Mrs Arianne Potter,_

_Newbury, West Berkshire,_

_Your equally esteemed fellows,_

_Padfoot and Prongs._

This particular installment made Remus chuckle. He wondered how long it had taken them to get the wording just right without his help.

It had taken Remus the remaining days before the august Moon to compose a battle plan. He decided he would tackle his father the day following his transformation, and play for the sympathy vote. And that's exactly what he had done.

He had woken up to his father dressing his wounds, and hadn't hesitated.

' I want to visit my friends.'

He had spoken so quickly, so as not to lose his nerve, that he had sounded unforgivably rude, and so had corrected himself before waiting for an answer from his shocked parent.

' I mean,' he continued, more sheepishly. ' If you don't mind, that is. And as I've been invited, it seems rude not to go. And they have asked me every year since I started school. And I always give them excuses and they're never believable, and it is the normal thing to do, isn't it?'

He had stopped for a breath, finally meeting his fathers eyes and was very surprised to find a smile there. He blinked in shock.

' Remus,' his dad said, in his ever-calm voice. ' If you want to go see your friends, you can.'

' I, but… Really?'

' Really,' he confirmed, giving his son a sad little smile. ' I'm sorry you haven't been able to before now. I really am very sorry.'

Remus registered the strange tone in his dads voice. Guilt. Not just a little bit, for keeping his son from his friends, but heavy undeniable guilt - the kind that eats away at your insides. It was a little disconcerting, and Remus chose to ignore it, smiling instead.

' Uh… Would I… Well, when?'

' I don't know about that. When you feel up to it.'

In the end, Remus had managed to convince his father to let him come today, two days after the moon. John had given in, probably against his better judgement, but Remus had pushed and pushed.

He had obviously not told his dad that his friends knew perfectly well of his condition, or that they were in fact illegal, underage animagi just to help him through the transformations. He felt a little guilty for using the _Am I normal?_ card, but it had worked, and he was here.

And actually, he registered, the train was slowing. He really was there. And now he was beginning to feel a little nervous. He shoved the pile of papers back into his pocket and stood up as the train stopped.

He was nervous about lots of things, he noted as he allowed the old lady adjacent to get off before him. He was worried about seeing Sirius again, certainly, and for a whole host of reasons that really didn't need reading in to. But more immediately, he was frightened of their reaction to his new scars. He as only just getting used to them himself, and they were over a month old now.

He shuffled off the train, glancing around the platform. He didn't see anybody he knew, or even recognised, and he panicked a bit. What if nobody came for him? What if they forgot he was coming altogether?

He pressed himself against a wall in a quiet spot, fiddling nervously with his sleeves and looking up and down for anything familiar. He felt very uncomfortable standing stationary amongst all the movement of the crowd, and resolves to move.

' He's over there! All right, Moony!'

**Okay, back to Moony! **

**These chapters are a lot easier to write, because I really am that awkward, over-thinking socially inept person. It makes life interesting. Also, randomly, I loved writing the letters. I think personality comes out so much more in the way we write.**

**A big Thank you to Everyone who reviewed, I needed it! Thank you, thank you! Especially so to Cat, AtraThestral and vulcangirl1983, my most frequent sources of feedback.**

**Also, Syranda, in answer to your question, No. There won't be a direct comparison to Remus' summer, mainly because I felt that would be dragging it out a bit. There will be a few chapters spent at the Potters, and there is still the summer between sixth and seventh year to come, which will be more focused on Remus' family, but not for a while yet. **

**Thank you for reading, reviews make me smile! Danke shern!**

**PS. For some stupid reason, the Fanfiction editor isn't saving any of my changes, so the letters won't allign properly and underlining isn't sticking. Not massivly important to the story, just really annoying for the author. That is all.**


	19. It's All About the Face

**It's All About the Face**

' He's over there! Alright, Moony!'

Remus let out a small noise of relief. They hadn't forgotten about him, after all. James was here. Then the panic rose up again. If James was here, surely Sirius was too and the amount of awkwardness that particular reunion would entail really shouldn't have spectators.

Only when the hand touched his shoulder did he realise he had frozen to the spot, not even turning towards the voice of his friend.

' Alright, Moony?' James repeated, giving his shoulder a little squeeze.

' Yeah,' Remus said, trying to keep his voice even. Surprisingly, it complied. He felt suddenly encouraged by his unwavering vocal coordination, and turned to meet James grin with a casual smile of his own.

James' face visibly fell, crumbling in on itself almost. He stared with wide, hazel eyes, running his gaze back and forth across Remus' face.

' Whoa,' he breathed, fingers twitching very much like he was resisting the urge to reach out and touch it.

Remus sighed. He had known this was going to happen at some point, but the actuality of the James Potter - epitome of all that is the courageous, outspoken Gryffindor - speechless. Because of him. The thought actually made him giggle.

' Err… Have you finally cracked?' James asked, uncertainly, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

' No. Well, yes. Years ago. Around the time I decided to knock about with you, I'd wager,' Remus said, between the giggles still bubbling up in his chest.

' Right… ' James said, slowly, even as the smile grew. ' So, we're laughing because…?'

' You - James Potter - '

' I am.'

' - rendered completely and utterly incapable of speech -'

' I.. Well… Hey!'

' - because of my face. _My Face_!'

' Well, when you put it like that,' James laughed, shaking his head slightly, ' It still isn't funny at all. Come on, mum's waiting.'

' Sorry,' Remus said, allowing himself to be pulled along. ' You have no idea how nervous I was about this.'

He gestured vaguely to his face, and the prominent pink scar across his nose, and James stopped. He regarded him fro a moment, with what can only be described as scholarly interest, before nodding his approval.

' I like it. It's… rugged,' he grinned, and added, ' Plus, you know Padfoot'll love it.' Remus felt his blood drain away and only just repressed a shiver as everything went cold in an instant. Deciding he really didn't want to know whether James actually had any idea what he was hinting at, he pretended to look around.

' Speaking of whom,' he asked, hopefully innocently. ' Where is he?'

' At home. Didn't feel like venturing beyond the paradise that is my house.'

' Ah,' Remus replied, smirking. ' In bed then. Should've know.'

' Of course you should, it's not even breakfast yet! Trust you, Remus Lupin, of all people, to board a train that arrives promptly at 7AM. There isn't a word for it. Oh wait, there it. It's fucking ridiculous, that's what it is.'

' James Potter,' came a half-stern reprimand. ' Language.'

Ignoring the woman, James grinned an pushed Remus forward a bit. He found himself staring at a tall, kind faced lady whose playful scowl melted into warm, welcoming smile. She had thick hair that fell to her shoulders, once a vivid red but now more of a rusty grey. Her face was full of laughter lines, and Remus decided this was a lady who must really like to laugh. Then again, she lived with James, that should have been a given.

' Mum, this is Remus, finally,' James said, nudging Remus' ribs and urging him forward. ' Remus, my mother.'

' It's lovely to meet you Mrs Potter,' he said, falling back on his ingrained politeness and offering his hand.

She ignored it, and pulled him in to a tight, motherly hug. It was slightly odd, seeing as how he had only just met her, but it was nice. After what seemed like a very long time, she pulled back and held him by the shoulders while she eyed him. He felt rather like an interesting specimen at a museum.

' Hmm,' she said, after another long stretch of a short moment. ' Far too thin. And pale, so pale.'

Remus blinked in shock at the sudden judgement, and was distantly aware that he was probably gaping at the woman. Fortunately, James came to his rescue.

' Mum,' he said, firmly. ' We've talked about this. I told you he's been ill. He's not quite recovered yet. Give him a few days and he'll be fine, won't you?'

Remus nodded, probably looking every bit the small animal caught in the headlights of the knight bus. He hadn't even considered what he must look like to an overprotective maternal figure, all transformation-battered and sleep deprived. Strangely, Mrs Potter didn't look twice at the scar across his face, and he was thankful for that.

' Anyway,' James smiled, pulling Remus out of the train station, ' A week on my mum's cooking and you'll be looking like Peter.'

The journey from London to West Berkshire took nearly two hours, and passed exactly as expected. James' father, who Remus though looked exactly like James would if he lived that long, was a friendly man with a Muggle fascination bordering on unhealthy. He drove the Muggle car they were travelling in, explaining the various functions to a less than interested James.

Remus nodded politely when spoken to, and responded quietly when more was required. James, he noticed, didn't act any differently around his parents. He talked to them like they were his friends, jokingly and occasionally a little rudely. They didn't seem to mind though.

As they entered the borough of Newbury, Remus was captivated by the town sprawling before him. It was lush and green, perched along the banks of a river. The buildings were small, quaint little stone cottages, worn and used over the years, and thoroughly loved. It was a perfect, picturesque scene. Like a postcard. He must have been staring, because Mrs Potter started fussing over him again.

' Alright, dear? I know it isn't much…'

' It's beautiful,' He said, with feeling.

' It's a mainly Muggle place,' Mr Potter said, excitedly. ' But there are a few wizarding families dotted about the countryside.'

' Where there's space to build sodding great Manor houses without anyone noticing,' James laughed.

Before Remus could question the distinct lack of anything larger than a bungalow in the immediate vicinity they turn up a barely noticeable country lane, concealed behind a charmed wall of ivy which raises when Mr Potter mutters something and waves his wand lazily. Remus realises he is probably gawping, but feels he is perfectly justified.

As soon as they cross the threshold the ivy wall descends again, casting them in shadow. Not that Remus noticed. He was far to busy staring at the huge, whitewashed Manor occupying several acres of land that had suddenly appeared before them. It is massive. Three stories surrounded by sprawling gardens, bright painted walls with huge bay windows he can see right through and _Oh God_, is that a library?

' Really, Moony, close your mouth,' James says, patting his shoulder.

' It's… It's…' But Remus can't think of a way to express it, and his mouth flaps about unflatteringly for a few moments.

James only shrugs, ' It's home.'

They pulled up the gravel driveway, James jumping out of the vehicle almost before it had stopped. Remus followed, more cautiously. They entered the house through a large, ornate wooden door into an equally vast hallway which centred around a gorgeously carved mahogany staircase. On which sat the figure of an equally gorgeously formed dark-haired teenage boy.

' About time,' Sirius exclaimed, staying firmly sat on the steps. ' Been waiting ages.'

' Well, you will sleep in, you lazy git.'

' James, be nice,' Mr Potter said casually, as he wandered through a door to the left. ' Now, boys, Lunch will be ready at one thirty sharp, and I'll expect you all to have washed up before hand, understood?' Mrs Potter said, with a pointed look at James and Sirius as she disappeared into the kitchen.

' Yeah, mum, we know -' James started.

' No more mud fights in the house,' Sirius finished, saluting.

Silence descended. A very tense, awkward silence. But Remus' thought that might just be his interpretation. Sirius didn't move from the stairs, so Remus stood stationary in the doorway and James hovered somewhere in the middle. For the first time in years, Remus actually wished the bespeckled boy wasn't there.

He stared at Sirius, who was staring back. Sirius blinked, and Remus worried at his bottom lip, and they seemed to come to some sort of unspoken agreement. It was simple really, but necessary. _Let's not make this as awkward and uncomfortable as it probably should be._ And with that, the moment passed. James was just beginning to look concerned when Sirius jumped up.

' Alright, Moony!' he called, taking the last three steps in one casual movement. ' Glad you could make it, and all that.'

' Glad to be here,' he replied, with a small smile. ' Any chance you could show me my room, I'm knackered.'

' You look like shit,' Sirius said, and James nodded emphatically.

' Yeah, I'll take you.'

Remus muttered his thanks, reaching for his bag but Sirius jogged towards him, making to take it instead. He stopped half way, eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

' Bloody hell, Remus.'

Remus shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't often Sirius used his given name. The darker boy, obviously lacking the tact James had shown at the train station, reached up and brushed his fingers across the stark, pink scar tissue on the bridge of his nose. Remus jerked away from the surprisingly gentle touch, wincing at the warm contact.

' It's nothing,' he muttered.

' Nothing?' Sirius cried, incredulous. ' _That_ is a whopping great slash across your face!'

Remus managed a weak laugh. ' James reckoned you'd like it.'

' Hmm,' he said, stepping back and regarding the werewolf from a distance, ' I do. It's very… rugged.'

' Hah! That's what I said!'

' God help me if I'm starting to think like you, Prongs, mate!'

' There is no helping you, Padfoot. God or no.'

Remus had spoken without thinking, and he was glad of it. Suddenly everything was light-hearted again, and fun. How it should be. No awkwardness in sight. Sirius seemed to sense this too, and clapped him on the back.

' Come on then,' James said, staring up the staircase. ' I'll find you some pillows.'

' Want help with that?' Sirius asked.

' From you?' James said, pulling a face that clearly said he didn't. ' You, Padfoot, cannot find your toothbrush when it is in that expansive hole you call a mouth.'

' Hey!' Sirius said, casting about for something to throw at his best friend.

' Now, Prongs, be fair,' Remus grinned. ' I haven't once seen him brush his teeth in five years.'

James said something else, but Remus didn't hear it for being tackled to the ground. A three way tickle-fight ensued, and Remus knew everything was going to be fine, one way or the other.

**New chapter! Well, it's sort of the end of the last chapter, really, but when I wrote it out it seemed way too long for one so I split it. **

**I have good news! I, being the genius I am occasionally, have managed to base my entire current project on this story. So technically, I am doing my collage work by writing it! How devious am I? Brilliant! So updates should be pretty regular for the next few weeks, anyway.**

**Other than that, not a right lot to say. Thank you for reading, and reviewing! I nearly have 50 now, which is just **_**wow. **_**Thank you so much!**


	20. As Summer Should Be

**As Summer Should Be**

Life at Potter Manor was almost exactly like Remus had imagined it would be.

Mrs Potter - whom he still referred to as such, despite her insistences that he call her Arianne - seemed to spend all day in the kitchen. She prepared them four full meals a day, breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper, the table stacked so full it rivalled the Hogwarts elves work. Between said meals, she was constantly plying them with baked treats and pastries. She seemed to have made it her personal goal to fatten Remus up as much as possible in the weeks before they went back to school.

Mr Potter - same story, different name - was James' complete opposite, despite the striking similarities in looks. He was a very calm, quiet man, who spend most of his time off work shut up in his library. He had a fascination with Muggle objects and customs, and often asked Remus to explain something he didn't quite understand about the Muggle world. He was also a very well read man, and Remus decided he like him rather a lot.

Remus spent a lot of his time in the vast library. Mr Potter had shown him around it on the evening of his first day there, much to James displeasure and protestations, ' I've never been allowed in there!' to which Mr Potter simply replied, ' You've never shown an interest in books.' There really wasn't any arguing with that statement, and James had taken Sirius into the living room and promptly set something alight. No doubt in retaliation.

This bookishness, however, was only allowed in the evening though, and nights when he couldn't sleep. Through the days, James and Sirius made sure he barely had time to sit down. It was rather exhausting, but he had to admit it was a lot of fun.

On his second day - because the first was spent sleeping and eating - they had explored the gardens, which were ridiculously vast. It was a maze of random shrubs Remus couldn't name and flowers so bright they blinded him when they caught the sun just right. Halfway down, once hidden by the plants, Sirius had transformed and thoroughly enjoyed jumping out of bushes at an unsuspecting James.

When they eventually reached the bottom of the garden, they had struggled through the boundary hedge and found themselves of the bank of the river passing through the town. Or a branch of it, at least. Complete with what was, essentially, their own private beach. They had returned the day after and spent the afternoon trying to catch fish, which was a remarkably spectacular failure.

The day after that, Sirius had declared that they should have a bonfire when Peter arrived. They had trekked to the woods down the river and gathered wood to Muggle way, seeing as how they were all still underage. It had taken a lot longer than it should have, with a significant amount of jumping out at one another and hollering 'BOO', resulting in a lot of dropped twigs.

By the time Peter had actually arrived, they had the little beach set up like a proper, if downsized, campsite. The wood was set up as neatly as Sirius could manage, surrounded by a ring of stones on Remus' advice. James had borrowed a tent from his dad, and set it up by hand - which Sirius had found hilarious, and Remus had to admit was rather funny to witness.

After a few awkward glances at Sirius, and Remus' nose, Peter settled into the relaxed atmosphere. James snuck out a bottle of Fire-whiskey and Mrs Potter had packed them a picnic supper and they spent the afternoon laughing and joking, then the evening drinking and talking and laughing some more.

It could have been considered a little childish, Remus thought, for four sixteen year olds to be giggling around something they had set on fire. But it wasn't. It was fun and carefree and almost normal. And he was thoroughly glad of it.

Things were only going to get harder for them. The war was still going on all around them, getting worse by the month. Reports on Muggle television of 'sudden, unexplained gas leaks' were becoming dangerously frequent, and everyone in the wizarding world knew there was only one spell that killed you without leaving a mark.

The ministry were keeping it quiet though, and who could really blame them? They were losing. Remus couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before they - the next generation - were pulled into the fight.

Remus was pulled back to reality when a very drunk black-haired boy fell into his lap.

' Wotcher, Moony!'

' Prongs. Is there a reason you're sat on my knee?'

' You were thinking again!'

' Yes,' he replied, dryly. ' I tend to do that.'

' Well, one of us has to, eh!' James hiccoughed.

' Quite,' Remus agreed.

As if to prove the point, Peter bellowed what can only be described as a battle cry and hurled himself into the stream, which was, thankfully, not very fast-flowing.

' I think I should probably do something about that,' James mumbled and he staggered to his feet and wobbled down the sandy incline.

Remus watched in silence as James balanced precariously on the bank of the river. He was talking to Peter, hands gesticulating sickeningly quickly. He teetered dangerously for a second, before pitching into the water. Remus wondered if he should get them out before one of them drowned.

' Water isn't that deep, they'll be fine.'

Remus jumped as Sirius sat beside him. He was clearly in a better state than the other two boys, and had moved almost silently.

' I suppose that's why we call you Padfoot,' Remus muttered. ' Sneaky bastard.'

' No,' he laughed. ' You know it isn't. Maybe it should be though.'

A comfortable silence fell between them as they both watched the boys frolicking in the water. That was another thing Remus was glad of. Whatever was going on between them, it hadn't made things too weird.

He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but there was something there. They hadn't talked about the kiss, which was good because he really wouldn't know what to say. But there were moments. On more than one occasion, he had caught himself staring at Sirius' lips when he talked. And he had nearly broken his ankle tripping over the stones they had set around the fire, because he was too busy watching Sirius bend over to pick up the sticks.

Okay, admittedly, that one was a _bit_ weird. But it wasn't at all one sided. Sometimes he could practically feel those grey eyes burning into the back of his head. But at the same time Sirius, who had always been a very touchy-feely sort of a person, hadn't so much as prodded him since that first day here. It was all very confusing.

He supposed it was because they were friends that this was so complicated. Neither of them wanted to do something that could ruin that friendship, ruin the Marauders. Then again, he could be completely wrong. He didn't actually have any idea what Sirius made of the whole thing. He could perfectly well be imagining it all.

Remus glanced at the darker boy and found him gazing thoughtfully into the fire. It was a peculiar look, not often seen on that handsome face. Not wanting to interrupt whatever was going through his head, Remus just looked at him.

He had changed since he had left home. Some of it was obvious. He was wearing Muggle clothes now, something he had never done before. James had said this was because he left home without any clothes with him, but Remus wasn't so sure. It seemed to him like Sirius was trying to be exactly the opposite of what he had been with that family. So instead of expensive wiizards robes of rich materials, he was sat in cheap denim jeans and a_ very nicely_ fitting cotton t-shirt. He had also taken to wearing - after seeing some Muggles in the town in them - Doc. Marten boots and, bizarrely, a dog collar.

Remus hadn't asked, and didn't ever plan to.

But there were other changes too. Smaller ones, more subtle. He sat up straighter. It was an odd observation, Remus was perfectly aware, but not untrue. Sirius definitely wasn't slouching as much. Even now, knees drawn up and his elbows resting on them, gazing into the flames, his back was straight. It might have been pride, Remus thought.

It was entirely deserved, of course. It was easy to hate people you don't really know, people like Snape, who you never exchanged two words with. But to hate the people you know you're supposed to love, your family, the people you grew up with. As much dislike as there was there, it can't have been easy to turn his back on that completely.

' You lot are my family, you know,' Sirius said quietly, not looking away from the bonfire.

Remus fleetingly wondered if his thoughts were really that loud, and tilted his head towards the other boy.

' Not them. They haven't been for a long time.'

' I'm glad you got out,' Remus said, without thinking about it.

' Me too,' Sirius said. ' It took me five years, five summers, to build up the courage, and I finally did. Best thing I've ever done.'

Definitely pride, Remus thought, smiling. He turned back to the splashing, giggling figures of James and Peter in the water, idly playing with the sand between his fingers. He jumped a little when something warm touched his skin, and looked down to find Sirius' hand on his.

' Well,' he said, still looking resolutely at the fire. ' Second best.'

**Aw! I needed a fluffy chapter, so here you go. Yay for twenty chapters!**

**All my best friends are boys and we did stupid stuff like this when we were 16. We once got locked into a Cemetery. Rather interesting night, I'll tell you.**

**Thank you again to all my reviewers! Hooray for 50 reviews! That's rather amazing.**

**And to Azlarok Tolkien, all I could think when I read your review was **_**Whoa… **_**Hah hah! So, err, Thanks? I think. **

**Thank you for reading, once again! Danke Shern!**

**AUTHORS NOTE! I have taken down chapter 21! I was ill and half asleep when I proofed it and posted it, save to say that is never a good idea. I re-read it, and really wasn't happy. So it is gone, and I will fix it soon! Sorry!**


	21. Great, Imposing Things

**Great, Imposing Things**

There was no day in the year more anticipated by Sirius Black that the first of September. It was better than Halloween, and April Fools. It was better than Christmas, even if there was significantly less pudding involved. It was that wonderful day when, after three months being alone and miserable at home, he would see his friends again.

This year was slightly different, of course. He hadn't been at home for two of those three months, and never intended to be there again. He had already spent a week with the Marauders, drinking and swimming and setting things on fire - generally doing everything they could think of that Remus wouldn't let them do at school.

This year, he was doing it backwards. It was strange, finding himself twitchily scanning Platform 9¾ for any sign of Kreacher, so as to successfully avoid the horrid little thing, rather than looking for a tuft of ridiculous hair, or the awkward jerky movements of a tall boy in a jumper too small.

Indeed, James and Remus had been stood with him until moments ago, the three of them having travelled to King's Cross together from the Potter's. They had barely boarded the steaming train before James had spotted a flash of red hair and bolted after it armed with a very sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes, and Remus had wandered off to attend the prefects meeting.

For a few minutes, Sirius just stands in the middle of the corridor, gazing up and down for anything familiar - be it in a _Wahey-I've-found-you!_ sort of a way, or the more likely _Oh-God-I-Wish-I-hadn't_. After a moment, he decides he probably looks like an idiot, and makes his way up the train. He slowly moves past the compartments, peering into each of them and hoping to find it empty. When at last he manages to find something recognisable, it is most definitely of the _Really-wish-I-hadn't_ variety.

In a swish of black school robes trimmed with green and silver, Sirius finds himself looking at his own slate-grey eyes on a face that is so similar to his own, but so different. The first thought through his head, bizarrely, is that his nose was much nicer. Somehow, Regulus manages to look down at him despite being several inches shorter. Which is infuriating.

' Oh,' Regulus said, both looking and sounding so much like Walburga that Sirius briefly considers the involvement of Polyjuice. ' It's you.'

' You sound disappointed,' Sirius said, forcing a cheerful tone. ' Not happy to see your big brother?'

The younger boy's mouth curled downwards in a way that clearly said not.

' Of course not,' Sirius said, lightly. ' I suppose it's a poignant reminder of everything you don't have the bollocks to be.'

' Quite the opposite,' he spat, his face the mask of contempt.

It struck Sirius that that was exactly what it was. A mask. Regulus had always looked up to him, or he thought he had, before he had come to school. But he had never had the guile to defy their parents openly. He wanted their approval so desperately. It was more than a little sad, Sirius thought. That didn't mean he was going to be any easier on his brother.

' Hmm. And you've been hailed the perfect son since I left, have you?'

Regulus had always been frighteningly good at keeping that Pureblood indifference in his expression, but Sirius was just as well trained in the art. He spotted the cracks - the twitch of a muscle beneath his left eye, a slight clench in the jaw. He had touched a nerve. The people he had called parents weren't capable of love.

' Didn't think so,' he said quietly, stepping forward to move down the train.

Regulus didn't step aside and before Sirius could wonder why, they had been joined by another black-haired boy in his school robes. Between the greasy curtains of hair, the thin pale face of Severus Snape sneered out at him.

' Snivellus!' Sirius cried, suddenly brimming with a vicious excitement at the prospect of some good, old fashioned hexing.

Snape seemed to have other ideas though. He hadn't moved to clutch his wand, or flinched and ducked away like he normally did. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, sneering stupidly around the obstacle of his massive nose. Sirius raised his eyebrow questioningly.

' Problem, Black?'

' Wow, Snivelly, I'm impressed. Did you finally grow a pair over summer?'

' Hmm, very funny,' he said, voice slow and slimy. It was a very disconcerting tone, a sudden confidence in the drawl. ' But I fail to see why I should be afraid of a boy that ran away from his own mother.'

Sirius didn't even think to draw his wand before he had lunged at the oily boy with his fists. He heard a satisfying crack as his knuckles collided with that hideously prominent nose. He had thought they were alone in the corridor, and was surprised when a female voice spoke up.

' Stop that right now.'

' Evans,' Sirius said, desperately grasping for some kind of composure. ' He deserved it. You didn't…'

' I know. I was talking to them. I'll have ten points from each of you. You're lucky it's not more, for a premeditated attack on a fellow student,' Lily said calmly, in full prefect mode.

' Ahnd he ghets nohing fhor breahkin' mah nohse?' Snape cried through the blood streaming down his face.

Lily took a step towards him, then knelt down. It was an awfully friendly gesture, belied only by the harsh tone of her voice when she spoke.

' I heard what you said, Severus,' she warned, dangerously. ' And I don't think you should forget how much we've shared over the years. I still remember every word.'

It was a warning neither of the Blacks understood, but Sirius noticed Snape's already pale face lose what little colour it had. That could've been blood-loss, though, as there was rather a lot of it. Lily stood up, and the movement seemed to spur Regulus, who had been staring gormlessly at the scene, back into action.

' Get off him, you filthy mud blood.'

Lily turned around to dock him more points, no doubt, and only just avoided being covered in goo as the Slytherin heaved and vomited up a long, slimy grey slug. She looked up at Sirius, who determinedly met her gaze. He wasn't going to let his pathetic sheep of a brother call anybody _that_. She grabbed Sirius' arm and ushered him down the carriage, leaving Regulus gagging on slug-jelly and Snape choking on his own blood.

He was fully expecting a bollocking, and was well prepared to blank it all out when she started. He was taken completely by surprise when she smiled at him.

' What're you smiling for? Shouldn't you be threatening me with death by McGoogles?'

' Probably,' she said, still smiling.

' He must've hit me back, and I didn't notice, right in the head. Hard. This doesn't make sense. Even for me.'

' That was very sweet of you, back there. Thank you,' she said, pointing at a compartment before she walked away and adding. ' They're in there. And I won't tell McGoo- err, Professor McGonagall.'

Surely he imagined that slip-up? Lily Evans, prefect extraordinaire and general do-gooder, almost not properly addressing a Professor? That's almost less likely that Peter not swallowing his own tongue whenever a girl come within five feet of him. It was surreal.

' Thanks,' he muttered, but she'd already gone.

Sirius eased open the compartment door to find James and Peter sat on one seat, leaving the other completely empty. _Bloody inquisition_, he thought, wondering what he had done now. He didn't think he had offended anybody important, or accidentally spilled anyone's deepest darkest secrets. Lately.

' Err,' he said, eloquently. ' All right?'

' Fine. Yeah.'

' Right, Prongs, enough with the clipped pleasantries. Out with it.'

' Oh nothing,' he said in a tone that tried to be light but only managed to be high-pitched. ' Don't know what you mean. Nothing wrong at all.'

Peter shook his head slightly, and gave Sirius an apologetic look. Sirius put on his best indifferent expression and set his gaze level to his best friends. James refused to meet it for a moment then, all at once, jumped out of his seat, arms flailing in a mass of uncoordinated movement. It was dizzying. And very annoying.

' You were with Lily!' he says, accusingly. ' What were you doing with Lily? I don't like you being near her, communicating with my Lily!'

' Your Lily? Maybe you should tell her that,' Sirius retorts, loudly. Peter winces in the background.

' I don't want my chances with her ruined because you can't control yourself! You'll scare her off and she'll never even look at me again!' James wails, still flailing like a madman.

' I don't think you need my help there, mate,' he said with as much venom as he could fathom. ' Your great, conceited fucking balloon of a head'll do that for you.'

Without waiting for a reply, he stomped out of the compartment, slamming the door as hard as he could.

Whenever Sirius needed time alone on the train full of students, he snuck down to the very end of the train and unlocked the charmed door he knew was there, but couldn't see. It led out to a three foot wide fenced platform, evidently an emergency exit of some sort. His first thought when he had found it, at the beginning of his second year, had been _Who hides and emergency exit?_ His second thought had been _I wonder if anyone would notice if Snape never made it to the school_, which answered his first one rather nicely.

Sirius slid down against the rails, legs splayed, head thrown back, eyes closed to the passing clouds, and tried to block everything out. He concentrated on the blustering wind around his little bubble of shelter, the rustling as it whipped the leaves on the trees that flickered in a blur of green and brown.

He knew he shouldn't have reacted so strongly, should have stayed and talked it over. But Sirius wasn't in possession of a particularly broad spectrum of emotional capabilities, and he acted without thinking, as demonstrated many times before. His brain had stopped even trying to provide him with appropriate responses, and resorted to anger. He could do anger.

He wasn't sure how long he was sat there before the door slid almost noiselessly open. It was closed carefully, quietly, and Sirius knew who it was without opening his eyes. With three short, light steps Remus was standing in front of him.

' James told me what happened.'

' I don't want to talk about it, Moony,' he said flatly.

' Okay,' was the response, and the werewolf didn't move.

There was a silence of complete stillness, then as rustle of shifting clothes as he crouched down, perched precariously on his heels between Sirius' knees. Another pause, a hesitation and then there was a hand on his thigh. It was nervous, fingers twitching tentatively, and Sirius opened his eyes to meet the questioning brown of Remus', which were closer than he'd expected.

' I don't really want to talk about _that_ either,' Sirius supplied, ignoring the slight flush he could feel on his cheeks and keeping eye contact.

' Well,' Remus supplied, a little hoarsely, ' We don't have to talk.'

Sirius swallowed hard, certain he had misheard the implications in the statement. He stared for a moment, then blinked and Remus stood up again, taking Sirius' hand.

' Now come on, Pads. You'd better talk to James.'

Sirius allowed himself to be pulled back into the train and down the corridor, mainly because this meant Remus was essentially holding his hand. His grip was firm, just the right combination of guiding and forceful. Sirius rather liked it.

When they reached the compartment, James was pacing it's four step length. He jumped when the door closed, and looked deservedly abashed. He blinked too many times in a minute, his mouth flapping furiously but soundlessly before Peter broke in.

' I think he's trying to say he's sorry.'

James nodded solemnly, adding, ' I panicked, mate. It's just - she didn't hex me this morning. I talked to her and everything, and she didn't even draw her wand!'

' Significant improvement,' Remus said, encouragingly.

' I reckon she's having a funny turn,' Sirius said. ' She didn't report me to Minnie McGoogles for fighting, either.'

' Must be ill,' Peter speculated.

' Everyone can have an off day,' James said, sighing contentedly. ' I think I'd miss it if she didn't ever shout at me.'

' I wouldn't,' Remus put in. ' You were fighting?'

' Anyone we know?'

' We know everybody, Wormtail, you prick!'

' Not the first years,' Remus observed, then he frowned. ' You haven't been fighting first years, have you?'

' You really think that little of me, Moony?' Sirius asked, and received a raised eyebrow and a quirk of a bitten back smirk. ' You'll like it, Prongs.'

' Snivelly?' he asked, hopeful.

' Yup,' Sirius replied, grinning. ' Broke the bastards nose, great imposing thing that it is.'

The three of them fell about laughing, and even Remus didn't look wholly disapproving, and everything horrible about the day was completely forgotten.

**My sincere apologies for posting then taking this chapter down. I re-read it and really wasn't happy. There was way too much going on in one chapter, and it didn't flow well. Also, I managed to make Sirius out to be a right man-slut, which always annoys me, so out it went. As such, I have made appropriate changes, both to the chapter and to the story plan in general. Speaking of which…**

**I could use your help. I have some scenes planned that involve our favourite canine couple to be fairly publicly affectionate, but when I thought about it, I'm really not sure whether Peter should know about them or not. I guess my thinking is that this relationship was canon, so I want it to fit as well as possible. And I really think that if Peter knew about the relationship, she would've brought it up in PoA, in the shack. The only reason Harry believed Sirius was because Remus did, and if Peter could have said 'Well you would take your boyfriends side', I am sure he would have. So, what do you think?**

**Thanks for reading, Pleas let me know what you think. Thank you! **


	22. An Uncharacteristic Expression

**An Uncharacteristic Expression of Unbridled Emotion**

Sometimes Remus feels like a sociopath.

A complete outsider, feeling and thinking nothing like the people around him. It is maddening, a constant reminder that he is different to most boys his age. And it is only made worse with friends like James Potter and Sirius Black, who do everything so easily and uncaringly.

Remus has coped, of course. He has developed quite the knack for imitating aspects of James and Sirius' behaviour, and merged them together into a twisted sort of safety net. If all else failed, he had something to fall back on.

But he felt increasingly like he was losing himself under all these layers.

He was the careful, controlled Prefect, reasonable beneath the façade of a Marauder, mischievous and charming - that parody of Padfoot and Prongs that didn't quite work on him. There was the inner voices of pessimism, worry, nostalgia, and all those other things he thought about all the time, but would never speak aloud for fear of being condemned a woman and cast out of the boys-club that had taken him in.

And, of course, there was the wolf. That wild, untameable horror of a thing that couldn't ever be allowed to show itself for twenty-eight days of every twenty-nine.

But shouldn't there be more than that? Something underneath the wolf, the control and the façade. But there isn't, and Remus feels like a sociopath. Always pretending.

He was sitting in the common room, alone in a quiet corner with his Potions textbook. The rest of his house are fawning over an increasingly irritated girl by the portrait hole. The girl is Dorcas Meadows, but she is nothing like the Dorcas Meadows that fell into Remus' lap the year before.

Remus always thought that 'growing into yourself' was a process only gangly teenage boys went through, when they go from having too many elbows and knees to being all hard angles and plains of muscle. Apparently he was wrong.

The round faced, wide-eyed, goofy-grinned Dorcas was gone, and in her place stood a voluptuous young woman with striking features and big pouting lips. What last year had constituted as plump was now resolutely curvy, filling out her once baggy shirts. As such, every boy over twelve was collecting his eyeballs from the floor and every girl under sixteen was glowering with enough resentment it could catch fire.

As usual, Remus didn't get it.

Everyone seemed to suddenly think she was gorgeous, worthy of envy and admiration in equally ridiculous portions. Remus thought it was funny. Hilarious, really, because Dorcas was exactly the same person she always had been, wearing a shirt cut for a man and a strange half-grin because she couldn't decide whether the situation was more funny than it was annoying. After a few more minutes of pestering, she whipped out her wand and waved it threateningly at the crowd, which quickly dispersed. Then she stalked towards Remus' corner, walking into a table in transit and collapsing onto the rug by his feet clutching her shin and cursing loudly.

Yes, she was definitely the same Dorcas, as clumsy and boyish as usual, but with a shiny new cover.

' Graceful as ever,' Remus said, forcing his voice calm.

' Fuck off, Lupin,' she said, grinning up at him. She rubbed her shin once more before pulling her sock back over it and belatedly saying, ' Ouch.'

' Good Summer?' Remus asked, politely.

' Suppose. Had my squib aunt over, so we couldn't do any magic for six weeks. Mum said it'd be rude. Surely it'd be a kindness, to show them what they're missing out on, wouldn't it?' She looked thoughtful for a minute, then shrugged. ' Still, even that might be preferable to this lot. I don't need a bloody fan club! Those kind of things are for Sirius and James.'

' What about us?' James called as the pair walked towards them.

' You revel in attention,' Remus told them. ' You pompous, vainglorious buggers.'

' Moony!' James cried, throwing himself into a chair, ' You flatter us!'

' He doesn't understand those words,' Sirius stage whispered to Dorcas, gracefully crossing his legs and sitting on the floor. Then, completely belittling that display of elegance, turned to her and said, not at all quietly, ' Nice tits, Dork-face. They new?'

' Yeah,' she said, dryly. ' Got them over summer. You like?'

' They're alright,' he conceded, making a show of looking down her shirt.

' They're bloody annoying, I'll tell you,' she insisted, pushing her chest out and glaring down at it. ' More trouble than they're worth.'

While they continued to discuss the merits and disadvantages of Dorcas' breasts, Remus lifted his book back to eye level. He wasn't reading it, if he was honest he could rightfully remember which book it was, but it gave him an excuse to back out of the conversation and think.

Since they had returned to school, Sirius had flickered between ignoring him and being openly passive-aggressive. It was uncomfortable both ways, and so Remus had taken to avoiding him wherever possible. He buried himself in books, tucked himself away in dusty corners of the library or hid behind random tapestries and statues. It was cowardly and embarrassing, and the only solution.

Well, not the _only_ solution. But the only one he could face.

The _real_ solution was to talk about it, but it wasn't really an option at all. It would only result in conflict, and Remus didn't exactly relish in the idea of looming confrontation. He had seen Sirius' aggressive side on more than one occasion and really didn't need to be on the receiving end of that. Especially today, the full moon, while his entire body was thrumming with tension and anticipation.

He should, of course, have realised that putting it off would only make it worse when the inevitable happened. Should have know ignoring Sirius would only exasperate him, and that avoiding him would give him time to stew, strange illogical thoughts and explanations cooked up out of pure irrationality. He was encouraging the build up, and it should have been obvious to him that the explosion was imminent.

But it hadn't been, he had missed it.

And when happened, when Sirius couldn't control himself any longer, Remus had actually been surprised.

' Will you get your nose out of that fucking book!'

Remus had just stared, as had James and Dorcas, when Sirius proceeded to forcibly remove said book from Remus' grasping fingers. These were the first words they had exchanged in a week, and it took a moment to process them. When his brain finally did, the answer it provided was a very unsatisfactory, ' Uh… What?'

' Book. Nose. Out,' Sirius articulated slowly, biting out the words. ' Not that sodding complicated. Socialise.'

Remus blinked. Not good. Not today. This wouldn't be good at any time, but today?

' Pads,' James said, forcing a calm tone but looking stern. ' Something wrong?'

' Oh, no. Nothing at all, Prongs,' Sirius said, a manic edge to his voice. ' It isn't like he's been ignoring us or anything!'

James took a breath, slowly, cogs visibly working in his head as he replayed the last week in his mind. He looked between Sirius and Remus and back again before he answered the Animagus.

' Actually,' he said, cautiously. ' You've sort of been blanking him, Sirius.'

' Taking his side then, are you? Thanks mate, really.'

' Moony hasn't done anything wrong,' James insisted. He paused for a second, then added coolly, ' and you're being a right arse. What's going on with you? You've been acting weird all week! I'm your best mate, you can tell me!'

' Yeah, right. Thanks. Great job you're doing. What're best friends for, eh?'

' They're for telling you the truth when it matters! And the truth is, right now you are being a massive dick.'

James' voice was harsher than he probably intended, and Remus only blinked again. Something hot was bubbling in his stomach, though he couldn't put his finger on what exactly. Sirius crossed his arms across his chest and raised his chin insolently, reminding Remus rather severely of Lucius Malfoy.

' Look. I know you've been sulking since we got back and, frankly, I'd love to know what's bothering you. But is this really the best time to start an argument?' James asked, with a quick glance sideways at Dorcas, who was still entertaining an expression of mild curiosity. ' What with Moony being… _ill_ and all. You know it isn't good for him.'

Remus was getting increasingly annoyed with being discussed as though he wasn't sat right there. They had always babied him a bit around full moons, ever since they worked it out in second year. It had never bothered him so much before. _It was always Sirius before,_ a little voice reminded him, and the heat in his belly bubbled violently.

' He doesn't need coddling, James,' Sirius snapped.

Back to given-names, and James looked as shocked as Remus felt.

' Of course he does! He needs us- ' He started, not giving an inch.

' No, he doesn't!' Sirius said, louder. ' He doesn't need us! Doesn't want anything we can give him!'

That was almost personal. Almost addressing the problem they both knew was there. Almost sounded… resentful. But _almost_ wasn't about to solve anything.

The bubble in Remus' stomach burst, spilling burning heat up his chest along with the rising irritation. The sensation lifted his body to stand without him asking it to, the annoyance rising in his throat like vomit, closely accompanied by words he didn't mean to vocalise.

' Shut the hell up! Both of you!'

Oh, God. Was this anger? It was more than irritation and annoyance, both of which he knew rather well. This was stronger, less controlled. It was hot and sudden. And it was terrifying. He couldn't stop himself.

' I'm sat right here, if you care to remember!'

Both dark-haired boys gawped at him. Clearly they hadn't been expecting this kind of reaction either. It wasn't a comfort.

' I'll thank _you_,' Remus found himself saying, jabbing a finger at Sirius, ' not to presume my wants and needs.'

He blinked, grey eyes startled, and Remus took that as an ascent of some sort. He turned on James next.

' And _you_ don't need to speak for me. I am perfectly capable of expressing my own opinions, thank you, especially where my won wellbeing is concerned.'

If he had hoped this uncharacteristic expression of unbridled emotion would ease his discomfort, Remus was sorely disappointed. If anything, the sickly hot churning in his belly only intensified. He had a sudden urge to hit something, very hard.

In a horrifying moment of clarity, he remember the moon. It would rise in a few hours, full and round and terrible. If he felt like punching something now, as himself in a comfortable room surrounded by friends, what would the wolf feel like tonight, cooped up in a cold, empty old house. It might lash out at the root of the anger, the boys stood now in front of him. Remus couldn't have that.

' James,' he said, pleased at how calm his voice sounded. ' Sirius is right. I don't think I'll need you're help tonight. Thanks.'

And before they could argue, he left. He wandered slowly up to the Hospital Wing, the furnace in his stomach lurching nauseatingly. It would be a hard night, but he didn't even think about that. He couldn't put his friends at risk, however annoying they were sometimes. The very idea made his throat tighten and his tongue taste of bile.

He didn't like being angry, he decided. Maybe being a sociopath wasn't so bad.

**Hello, Hello! Sorry for the wait for this update, hand in week, busy busy. Also, not at all fun, so I wrote an argument to make me feel better! It didn't really work, of course, but hell, why not.**

**I don't really have anything else to say, hopefully everyone stayed in character in this chapter, despite being angry and fighting and all that. Please let me know.**

**Big thank you to everyone who reviewed last time, I appreciate it very much! Danke shern!**


	23. Romance Novels

**Romance Novels**

Rain. A lot of people dislike rain. It's understandable, really - it's wet and cold and generally makes you feel uncomfortable.

At this particular moment in time, Sirius Black was already uncomfortable enough not to care.

Normally Sirius loves rain. It smells fresh and clean and has that peculiar talent for making everything it touches smell just a little bit stronger. The sweet scent of grass or the bitter tang of tree bark. It was the embodiment of the outdoors, of freedom.

It was raining now. Thick, heavy autumn rain, pouring from the sky in an endless onslaught that soaked you right down to the bone. Not like that thin, misty stuff that people always complain is the worst for getting you as wet as possible in the littlest amount of time.

If Remus were there, he would laugh at Sirius and remind him that all rain gets you wet, and if you are going to sit in it for hours at a time, you will be thoroughly soaked in the end either way.

But Remus wasn't there, and Sirius was trying to distract himself by thinking about the weather.

And clearly he was failing.

Sirius lifted his head slightly from where it was resting on his knees, and finally took stock of his surroundings. It was surprisingly difficult to get his bearings, with the looming dark grey clouds and the lashing rain blurring everything together in the equally unhelpful remnants of moonlight that were flittering through the oppressive all-consuming bleakness in the air.

It was like one of those horrible clichés in a Muggle romance novel - _Not that he had ever read one,_ a very butch voice in his head chided- where his own bad mood and cloudy confused thoughts were translated miraculously into the surrounding environment as a warning to all the other, less important, characters in the story. In truth, it was just an average September night in the Scottish mountains, where things were always just a stones throw away from becoming bleak without warning.

He looked around, slowly. He had somehow managed to find himself near the edge of a rather steep drop into the lake, which looked particularly cold and uninviting. He was vaguely aware that his back was pressed against a wall, the cold, rough stone just noticeable through his shirt. He tilted his head back far enough to see the towering wall stretching up above him. It was windowless, possibly the far side of the Great Hall. He had been here all evening, and it was strange to think that, just a few hours ago, his housemates would have been sat not twenty feet away.

Sirius let his head flop back down to his chest. The movement shifted the thin fabric of his shirt, which was so drenched in rain it may as well have been woven from an aqueous solution. His whole body shivered, cramped frozen limbs protesting at the sudden movement. He bit his lip, then licked it in an attempt to soothe it again, and tasted blood.

He lifted a tentative hand to wipe it away, but it was dried. When had he done that?

The wind changes. Where before it was blowing towards the forest, disturbing the trees and making them groan in protest, it was now gusting directly at the castle in front of which he happens to be sitting. His body shivers violently again, but it feels odd this time, strangely detached.

He wonders briefly if this is one of those outer-body experiences Peter told him about last year. But didn't he say you felt like you were watching yourself from afar? Sirius just felt numb.

As if to prove he is still, in fact, perfectly well inside his own body, he lifts his hands up and gazes at his palms for a moment. Everything seems to be in the right perspective, but he turns them over to make sure.

His right hand is sore, he notes absently. When he looks, the knuckles are bruised, the skin cracked and crusty with blood. When he flexes the fingers, the joints scream their displeasure.

' I punched James.'

The realisation hits him as hard as the blow that had burst his lip.

He had actually had a fight with James. A malicious punch up, not their usual playful wrestling. It was unprecedented. They hadn't even fought after _The Prank,_ there had just been the silence and the avoidance.

Sirius idly rubbed the tender flesh of his hand as he tried to remember the details.

He could remember the argument with Remus well enough and, as usual, being an idiot and making a complete fool of himself. He wouldn't even be able to explain himself if you asked. He wasn't one to recall all the little reasons behind actions, he just did it and dealt with the consequences. He was starting to think he might need to change that philosophy.

It was the little things, now, that snapped the little control he had. He couldn't get mad that Remus was avoiding him, because he had been avoiding Remus. He couldn't be angry that the werewolf for not wanting to talk about it, because he didn't either. He couldn't even be mad at himself for feeling this way about his friend, because Sirius Black did not regret his feelings. His actions occasionally, but _never_ his feelings.

So instead, Sirius had gotten mad about the little things. Remus reading too much - Remus spending all his time in the library - Remus being all pal-y with Evans and Dork-face and Mary Fucking McDonald. All things Remus did anyway, but now Sirius would get mad about it and pass it off as annoyance at Remus' unsociability. He hadn't been sure James was buying it before, now he knew he wasn't.

_James. I fucking PUNCHED James. _

' I should apologize for that,' he muttered aloud.

Sirius closed his eyes. They were stinging, burning, and as much as he wanted to blame the tumultuous weather, he couldn't.

' Oh God,' he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. ' I'm being a girl. Complete skirt.'

How had he let this happen?

Why had he not controlled himself, not lashed out? Hell, why had he not controlled himself in the first place and maybe _not kissed his best friend! _How had he not realised what this would do to them? How it would pull them apart, make them so tense around one another.

But then, _why_ did it make them so awkward? Why did he feel like this? Why hadn't they just laughed it off, made it a joke? How had Sirius managed to keep this whole situation from James, his brother in all but blood? Why had Remus kept up that controlled forced calm, hiding himself from everyone again, like back in first year?

And why the bloody Hell had Sirius not talked to Remus? How had he backed down, taking the cowards route? How had he let this - whatever it was - come between them as friends? Why had he picked a fight on the full moon, of all days? How had he ever convinced himself it was a good idea to abandon Moony to his fate for twelve hours, alone and vulnerable and furious?

And then, amongst all the infuriating, unanswerable _hows?_ and _whys? _came a resounding_**what**_.

What was he going to do about it?

And, mercifully, he knew the answer. He was going to fix it.

Almost before he consciously had the thought, Sirius had jumped up. Another millisecond later and he was down again, this time on four legs, bounding across the grounds. He no longer felt the chill on his skin, now covered in thick, warm black fur. Not that he had been feeling it particularly much, regardless.

The smell of the grass and the rain and the _freedom_ were drowned out by the distinct scent of a fellow canine, and the blood that always accompanied him. Moony's blood. _Remus_' blood. He urged himself to run faster.

As he drew nearer, even the whistling of the wind and the furious rustling and creaking of the forest and whatever creatures it held couldn't hide the cries of the wolf. The long, low howls grew louder, and some fragment of Sirius' brain wondered if Remus could scent him coming. Probably.

He bolted under the Willow, without even bothering to hit the freezing knot. He was moving too quickly anyway, and a branch swung down and missed him by several feet as he ducked into the tunnel.

The smells were growing stronger and more feral with each step, and Sirius didn't think he had ever moved up this passageway so quickly in his Hogwarts history. It was odd, if you though about it, sprinting _towards_ a dark creature - never mind a highly dangerous dark creature you had had a fight with earlier, and who you knew for a fact was completely enraged - so Sirius resolved not to.

Before he knew it, he was in the doorway of the run-down old house. He sniffed to locate his friend, not sure what to expect and feeling uncharacteristically wary. He needn't have bother, though, as the roof creaked with the weight of a fully grown werewolf bounding down the landing above. He had been waiting.

Sirius tried to prepare himself, but it was futile. When the wolf stuck it's huge sandy-brown head over the banister on the stairs, the familiar, warm chocolate brown eyes were gone. What were left were hard, emotionless orbs filled with only a glint of bestial malice. They were narrowed as the animal snarled, baring it's teeth and flaring it's nostrils.

Sirius was terrified - something he could honestly say he had never been before. He shouldn't have come. This was another mistake on his ever-growing list of bad decisions.

But it was too late now.

The wolf tensed, crouched, muscles bunching, and Sirius braced himself for the attack. It was going to be a long night.

**Chapter 23. Wow. **

**I rather like this chapter, even if it was a bit hard to string all the elements together - I tend to write random little snippets, and then jumble them all together to make a chapter, filling out the gaps. Again, a little bit longer for the update, and again, I am sorry. I'm kind of getting into the balance of writing and getting my actually work done.**

**Also, 71 reviews! Even bigger WOW! :D Thank you all so much, it really means a lot that you took the time not only to read this, but to give your opinion and support! Thank you!**

**I think that is all, thanks again for reading! Danke Schoen! (Thanks, again, ItachisPurpleChakra for the correction, and the longest review in the history of fan fiction!)**


	24. If I'm the King of Cowards

**If I'm the King of Cowards, You're the Queen of Pain**

When James Potter woke up on the 9th of September 1976, the morning after the full moon, several thoughts ran through his head. They weren't consecutive thoughts, one after another in logical order, and they weren't an illogical ramble of ideas all smushed together awkwardly, either. Rather, they were two observations arriving in tandem.

The first was a very mild acknowledgement of _Oh, I must've fallen asleep._

The second was a much more urgent, almost scolding, _Shit, I fell asleep!_

He sat bolt upright so quickly his spine popped in a most unpleasant way. He glanced down at himself, mildly surprised to find he was still fully dressed in yesterdays uniform, pants pulled uncomfortably to the right, digging painfully into his thigh, and his shirt half unbuttoned and hanging unceremoniously off one shoulder. His tie was still fastened around his neck, bizarrely, apparently unfazed by the digressions of his collar.

He jumped off his bed and attempted to straighten his clothes as he made his way to the small window between his own four-poster and Peter's. It was still pitch black in the room, and he had to squint to make out the rough shape of the bedside table, so as to avoid walking into it.

It had been a stormy night, rain lashing the stone walls of the castle ceaselessly, and the grounds were still sodden and dark. So was the sky, grey and cloudy and unwelcoming as was only possible in Scotland.

For a few minutes, James thought it was still too early, that he had only closed his eyes for a second and it was still the middle of the night. But the window of the tower was north facing, and when he leaned out far enough he caught the pink and yellow tint in the clouds over the eastern mountains. The sun had risen enough for the transformation to be over.

Fastening the last of his buttons, he turned back into the dim room. He glanced down at Peter as he passed, the boy having pulled his covers over his head in the night and was thus reduced to a snoring crimson blob, and decided not to wake him just yet. They wouldn't be able to visit Remus until after breakfast anyway.

Instead, he padded quietly across to the other side of his bed and began his ritual morning sock hunt. It was in vain, he knew, but he searched regardless, muttering to the drawn curtains of Sirius' bed behind him.

' You going to hide in there all day?' he asked, as coldly as he could manage.

It wasn't very effective, to be fair. James never could stay angry at his best friend, even when said friend was being an idiot.

' C'mon, Pads,' James said, abandoning he attempt at hostility altogether. ' I know you can't sleep on full moon nights.'

Still no answer.

For a moment he considered that maybe Sirius, too, had dosed off, but quickly dismissed the idea. Sirius was, if possible, even more protective of Remus than James himself was.

At least, when he wasn't being a complete arsehole like the day before.

James instinctively touched a tentative finger to his cheek. The flesh around his eye was still tender and he hadn't been able to completely rid his skin of the purple tinge that remained of the bruise. But he took great satisfaction in the knowledge that he gave as good as he got, and busted lips took longer to heal that black eyes.

Finally having located a passable pair of socks - a nice, thick woollen pair that he had only worn once before loosing them down his mattress - under his bed, James straightened up.

' Padfoot?' he tried again as he pulled them onto his pneumonic toes. ' Sirius?'

He groaned when only silence followed, panicking a bit now. His fears were confirmed when he pulled back the scarlet drapes to find a very empty, very neatly made bed.

Sirius _never_ made his bed. He hadn't come up to the dorm all night.

Shit.

James groaned again, muttering to himself, ' Please don't have done something stupid.'

_This is Padfoot we__'re talking about,_ he reminded himself, _Of course he's done something stupid._

With a final curse, he bolted from the bedroom, not even bothering to find shoes, but grabbing his invisibility cloak as he went. Beautiful object. He really had to thank he dad again for it.

James hurried through the castle mostly unhindered. It was still early, and most of the schools population hadn't risen for breakfast yet. He dodged the few wandering students and staff with practiced ease, glad that his thick socks muffled his footfalls as well as preventing his feet from freezing to the icy stone floors.

He only halted once, to avoid Peeves, who was attempting to dismantle a suit of armour - which was, in turn, protesting very loudly. James edged carefully around them, holding his breath and only relaxing again when he heard the poltergeist zooming away humming an obscene rhyme about Mrs. Norris that James tried very hard not to laugh out loud at.

' Very well,' the remains of the metal man said in a quiet voice that was outwardly resigned, but buzzed with suppressed amusement. ' It isn't as though legs are a fundamental component in my structural integrity, so long as you make good use of them tormenting small animals.'

This time, James didn't quite manage to stifle his chuckle. He ducked around a very bewildered looking forth-year Ravenclaw and made a mental note to devise a prank involving the metallic guardians of the castle, as they seemed to have a rather good sense of humour.

He pulled the cloak off and stuffed it haphazardly into his pocket as he rounded the last corner before the hospital wing. He opened the heavy door and caught a glimpse of the tightly drawn curtain at the very back corner of the room before the matron shooed him back out of the sterile white hall.

' He isn't well, not at all! Absolutely exhausted! No visiting today!'

Madam Pomfrey was one of the younger members of staff at Hogwarts, not even thirty - which was impressive, given the years of training required to become a fully certified practicing healer outside of Saint Mungo's. She was a lot like McGonagall, James thought. Stern and no-nonsense, but with that underlying affection that occasionally shone through the rough exterior.

James wondered if it was a Gryffindor loyalty thing, like with McGoogles, but he couldn't honestly remember ever hearing which house Poppy Pomfrey had been in. Maybe it was a Marauder charm thing, instead, he decided as he jumped right in with one of his best smiles.

' Poppy! I didn't mean to surprise you! Just, you know,' he added a touch of sincerity that couldn't have been forced if he tried, and continued, ' You know we worry about him. I just wanted to check he got back okay this morning.'

Her face softened a little and she nodded.

' Good lad,' she said, approvingly. ' He's lucky to have friends like you boys.'

James half raised an eyebrow in hopeful question, and she added, a bit firmer,' Still no visits.'

' What about this afternoon?' he pleaded, borrowing that kicked-puppy look his friends did so well. ' He likes to see us. Please.'

She faltered. She liked Remus, and - despite Sirius and Peter's constant remarks as to exactly how much - had mothered him every month for over five years. She was visibly struggling with herself. James considered fluttering his eyelashes at her, but that might have been overkill. Instead, he stood quietly and waited for her to convince herself of Remus' best interests.

' I'll see,' she said, finally. I'll see what he wants when he wakes up.'

' Thanks,' James said, turning to leave before he remembered why he had been out so early in the first place. ' Madam Pomfrey? You haven't had Sirius up here, by any chance?'

' No,' she said, sharply. ' What can that boy possibly have done to himself now?'

_I don__'t know, that's the problem,_ James thought before answering, with more humour than he felt, ' Oh, I'm sure he'll think of something to keep you on your toes.'

She gave him a very sceptical look, but said nothing as he left.

It was only after another hour and a half of fruitlessly searching the grounds, that James realised he had absolutely no idea where his best friend was. Sirius didn't have any regular haunts - like Remus had the library, Peter had the kitchens and James had the highest available open-topped towers.

He wasn't involved in any outside activities - never one for study groups, or Chess Clubs, and his ban from Quidditch was indefinite. He certainly didn't have any family he could've gone to. At best, he could've wandered aimlessly about the school all night. At worst, James didn't want to think about it. Sirius had been known to disappear for hours at a time in first year, and return with very unexplained, very obviously self-inflicted injuries on his hands and wrists, usually from punching walls, or other people.

James suddenly felt like a failure.

He tried to think of anywhere he knew Sirius would go, but drew a blank. Over summer, James had managed to wheedle from him the fact that he stayed in the Defence block with Professor Knox after _The Prank_. But seeing as how the DADA Curse had prevailed yet again, she hadn't returned this year.

_Bugger it all._

He was despondently making his way back to the common room to grab some shoes, when he passed the tapestry of Godric Gryffindor on the transfiguration corridor. It was a depiction of the founder commissioning the Goblins for the Sword of Gryffindor and, much more importantly, behind it was what looked like a very large murder-hole that led through to a small tower. They had used it for their plotting back in first and second years, before they had mastered comprehensive silencing charms. James hadn't been back in years.

It was a significantly tighter squeeze than he remembered it being, and he almost abandoned the attempt. When he finally pulled himself into the small circular room, he was glad he hadn't.

Sirius was slouched against the back wall, pale and clammy and not looking well at all. He didn't look up, but made a strange exhaling noise that might have been a laugh.

' Nice socks.'

' Shit, Padfoot,' James found himself saying, kneeling by his friend and pressing a hand to his forehead. He was sweaty, but cold, like his body couldn't decide which was better. ' What the hell have you done?'

' Something stupid,' he mumbled, closing his eyes and resting his head back to the wall.

' I could've guessed that,' James said impatiently, tugging Sirius' soaking shirt off his arms. ' A little more specifical…'

He trailed off as the fabric pulled away from the frozen skin of his best friend, revealing significantly worse blemishes than goosebumps.

Three long, open slashes ran down Sirius' side, cleanly following the curve from shoulder blade to hip. The ragged edges were a sharp, hot red in contrast to the cold, ivory of the rest of his clammy skin. The wounds weren't bleeding, but were leaking a pungent, unpleasant yellowish white liquid.

James gagged, and turned away.

' Is it that bad?' Sirius asked, slurring a little.

' Yeah, it is,' James said quietly, steeling himself to turn back.

When he did, Sirius almost looked like he was asleep, except for the constant shivering of his limbs. James drew his wand, swallowed hard, then knelt back down and got to work cleaning the scratches. He looked up after a minute, and found Sirius had opened his eyes.

' Don't tell him,' he said, flatly. He let his head loll to the side, allowing him to meet James eyes. His own grey ones were listless, empty. ' Please, just don't tell him.'

' Him?' James asked, things finally clicking to place in his brain. ' Moony?'

He hadn't stopped to think about where the cuts came from, but it was so obvious! They were clearly animal scratches, long and deep and tinted with something. Something dark. Something cursed. Something like Lycanthropy.

' Sirius!' James shouted, grabbing his friends face. ' Tell me you were in your fur. Tell me you were a dog!'

The boy nodded weakly, muttering in that hollow voice, ' I'd be dead otherwise.'

' You're an idiot, Black! Fucking idiot!' James said, harshly. Then added, quietly, ' I won't tell him.'

' Thanks.'

' Don't thank me yet, you twat. This is going to scar, you know. Badly. Best keep your shirt on more often. Since when were you so unbelievably fucking stupid?'

Sirius mumbled something to quietly for James to hear, not that he was listening anyway.

' You're lucky I'm so good at these healing spells,' He said, as he finished guiding the abused skin back together. ' That'll have to do. Now come on, I can't fix Hypothermia. Up! To the hospital wing!'

Helping his very wobbly and weak friend to his feet, but one who was still taller and heavier than him, James was very thankful for Poppy Pomfrey, the school Matron, who is competent and efficient and secretly concerned.

And, best of all, who doesn't ask any questions.

**I am so, so, so very sorry for the wait! It's the longest I've taken between updates, and I cannot apologise enough. In my defence, I have spent much of the last week bedridden and delirious with fever-dreams. Cursed stress and psychosomatic infections. I am Sorry! Please forgive me and my haunted brain!**

**Ahem. Right, yes. I think that is it. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time, and Thanks to all the people who added this to watch and faves and such. There were rather a lot of you, and I can't remember all your names, but thanks regardless!**

**Thank you for taking the time to read this, I appreciate your feedback! Danke Schoen!**


	25. Potions and Remedies

**Potions and Remedies**

James Potter hated the hospital wing. It is a rather well known fact in the halls of Hogwarts - one of the few well known facts about the Marauders with some truth behind it. It falls firmly into the same category of _Facts About The Marauders_ as 'James Potter is a stalker' and 'Sirius Black isn't like a real Black' and 'Peter Pettigrew is a bit naff at Charms', rather than the more ambiguous 'Remus Lupin has a very poor immune system'.

Yes, James Potter hated the hospital wing.

It wasn't that he disliked being injured. Quite the contrary, he revelled in the attention it brought with it and he had built up a rather impressive threshold for pain in his many years as a sportsman and troublemaker.

It wasn't the staff he couldn't stand, either. James was actually rather fond of the matron, Remus liked to think. That same silent, secret affection he had for their Head of House, shown only in cheeky grins and playful protestations and hated little pet names like 'Minnie' and 'Poppums'.

And He certainly wasn't adverse to the cleanliness of the place. Despite what he would have his _'adoring public' _think of him, James' corner of the dorm was second only to Remus' own in the hygiene department and that was only because - as Sirius had so kindly put it once - he had no chance of beating an OCD Creature of Darkness.

In fact, when Remus thought about it, he can't for the life of him recall exactly _why_ James Potter hated the hospital wing, but he does.

With a Passion.

So it is very peculiar indeed when the unmistakable voice of his roommate of over five years reaches Remus Lupin's ears for the fourth time in a day. It is a very specific voice. It has that clear, concise ring to it that confesses James' privileged upbringing, and the cocky, joyful edge of his unerring confidence. It usually comes with the more subtle, underlying touch of determined loyalty. But that might be Remus letting his imagination get poetic.

James didn't know Remus knew, of course. As always, James probably thought he was being clever and careful and cunning when really, as always, he was being careless and conspicuous and acting a bit like another 'c' word Remus refused to even think.

The first time had been very early that morning, just after Madam Pomfrey had finished piecing him back together and sewing him up again. He had been only semi-conscious, but didn't miss the obvious grin in that distinct voice when it addressed the matron by her given name. Only Sirius and James had the guile to do that. Not even Remus, who was almost certainly on better terms with the little woman than most students, would ever dream of calling the nurse 'Poppy'. It just didn't sit right.

The second time, Remus wasn't even sure was a time at all. It had been mid-morning, just as his potions were wearing off, and he was still drowsy, mind sluggish after the heavy sedation that always followed a particularly rough moon. But he thought he heard that voice again, more urgent and uncharacteristically hushed. But just why it would be so frantic, Remus couldn't fathom. Perhaps it had only been a dream, after all.

The third time had been the usual afternoon visit, just after lessons finished at five. Remus hadn't honestly been expecting Sirius to come, not after the fight. It wouldn't have been right, to sit and smile and pretend everything was normal again. But it was still unbelievably strange not to have him there, with his comforting smile and reassuring closeness.

James was remarkably distracted, too, though he didn't talk about it, and it was left to Peter to try to fill the lapses in conversation. He wasn't very good at it, never had been, and Remus was actually rather glad of the quiet. It had been a very difficult night without the help he was growing accustomed to, and his head was the least that ached.

Thankfully, Remus had managed to pass it off as the effects of the autumn - when the sun hung lower and the skies were clear and crisp and the moon was visible even in the daylight hours. This, of course, was a complete lie; it had been overcast and cloudy all week, finally culminating in the horrendous thunderstorm the night before.

Madam Pomfrey graciously accepted the fib, with only a stern look that quite clearly said _Don't you think for a moment that I don't know you are lying._

After what was possibly the most awkward visit since they started coming in third year, Remus gave them a chance to excuse themselves by claiming he needed some rest. Peter had been clearly relieved, and apologised profusely while his eyes said his 'thank you's for him.

That had been hours ago now, and judging from the sparse scattering of dimly lit candles it was most definitely after curfew. But Remus was almost certain he had heard that voice again. He lay still for a few moments, just listening.

Nothing.

_Maybe I__'m still befuddled from the potions,_ he reassured himself. Then he scoffed at his use of the word 'befuddled' as he settled back against his pillow. But his eyes had barely closed again when the heavy door to the hospital closed with a telltale little _snick_ sound.

Remus' bed was right at the back of the wing, next to the nurse's private quarters. They were in complete darkness; Pomfrey was asleep. He couldn't see the door for the curtains separating him from the rest of the ward, but after another brief silence soft footsteps could be heard approaching. They came to a halt not three feet from Remus.

' Prongs?' he asked the shadows, a little tentatively.

There was an agonizingly long pause, then a light rasping noise as the curtain was pulled back.

' Sorry to disappoint,' came the reply.

' Sirius,' in his surprise, Remus sounded almost cold. He tried to be a bit more welcoming when he continued, ' What are you doing here?'

' Here generally,' Sirius said, gesturing widely at the sterile hall, ' or here specifically?' he finished, waving lazily at the bed in front of him. He sounded tired.

' Either,' Remus said, shaking his head. ' Both.'

' Hypothermia.'

The answer was both completely unexpected and utterly inadequate. The conversation was feeling very surreal, and Remus felt a bit numb.

' Erm. Which was that?' He asked, slowly.

' Generally.'

' Oh. Okay. And specifically?'

' We need to talk.'

Very, _very_ surreal. Maybe he was dreaming.

' Am I dreaming?' he asked, for good measure.

' No,' Sirius replied, quietly. ' Sorry.'

It was so unlike Sirius to be so stoic, calm and reassuring. It was unnerving.

' This seems like a dream.'

' Remus,' Sirius said, firmly, almost warningly. Remus swallowed.

' Right, No. Of course not.'

' Remus,' Sirius said again, much more softly.

' Yes, right. Talk. Must. It is a requirement. I do apologize,' Remus said, folding his legs under him and gesturing for Sirius to sit. ' Sit. Make yourself at home. Don't mind me. I think I might be panicking.'

' Yeah,' Sirius almost smiled. ' I picked up on that. Moony, really. Calm down. I'm not going to attack you.'

' Good. That's good.'

' Usually, yeah.'

' So,' Remus said, forcing some sort of composure. ' What did you want to talk about?'

' Well… Us,' Sirius said, as though Remus should've guessed that from the start. Which, if he were honest, he probably should have.

' Oh, right.'

' You don't have to sound so doomed,' Sirius definitely smiled that time. ' Just let me talk, okay?'

' Hmm,' Remus managed, nodding.

' Okay,' Sirius said, then took long, slow breath before bursting out with, ' I like you. Fuck. I really _like_ you. More than I probably should. But I do. And, and I've been a proper arsehole with you lately instead of just talking to you about it and not being a complete coward and acting just like they expect me to act and, oh bollocks, I really want to kiss you, be damned wi-'

' Okay.'

Remus blinked, taking a moment to realise what he had said. Sirius didn't hesitate, taking full advantage of Remus' slip.

He reached out and gently grabbed Remus' face, fingers pulling him closer. His thumb traced down Remus' jaw and he paused for a moment, however brief, and locked those grey eyes to Remus' brown. It was an offer to back away, a reassurance that he could stop if Remus only said the word.

He didn't, and Sirius closed the gap, pressing their lips together.

It was soft and slow, and Remus vaguely marvels at the juxtaposition with Sirius, who normally has that unrelenting, hyperactive energy about him. It was a marvellous contradiction, this gentle kiss, forceless and unassuming as it is. Almost chaste.

It lasted longer than Remus thought it was supposed to, and when Sirius finally pulled away his breathing was shallow. He didn't move back far, though, and Remus could still feel the little bursts of hot dampness when Sirius spoke.

' Okay, Moony?'

' Err…'

Was he okay? His heart was beating so fast he was surprised it hadn't burst right through his ribs, which he was almost certain wasn't okay. His mouth was tingling, his throat dry but his lips inexplicably wet. His eyes itched with the need to blink, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Sirius even for that millisecond. His palms were sweating, and he was beginning to feel pale and flushed at the same time.

It should be very far from okay, but it isn't and he didn't understand why.

' Yeah,' he whispered, pulling the older boy back in.

Because maybe he didn't need to understand.

Because this was definitely more than okay.

**Yay, advancement! Once again, I am terribly sorry for the wait. I have exhibitions to prepare for and hand it days looming and I've barely found time to jot down ideas - which I have been doing, incidentally. On my arm when I ran out of paper mid-project-briefing. **

**So, yes. Now that the angst bit is mostly out of the way for a while, I have lots of half-written fragments ready to be plied into chapters which will hopefully be a bit more fun again.**

**I've been writing some smaller pieces lately, because of the lack of free time. If anyone is interested, I've started posting a little four chapter fic of fragments of Peter's experiences with the Marauders, and more will be coming.**

**Thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and I appreciate reviews very much. Danke schoen!**


	26. The Best Types of Medication

**The Best Types of Medication**

Remus was dreaming.

He was sure of it. It wouldn't be the first time he had a dream of a questionable nature about his roommate. It would even be the most detailed, or the most erotic, if he were honest. But this one certainly felt the most real.

Sirius was straddling him, almost sitting in his lap while Remus' back pressed against the headboard of the narrow hospital bed. Remus wasn't entirely sure how that had happened. There might have been talking, he thought, but he couldn't be certain because all there was now were lips in a much more enjoyable capacity.

It started out gentle, cautious. Experimental little brushes which had grown gradually into more firm touches. Sirius swiped the tip of his tongue across Remus bottom lip, and the fairer boy couldn't quite bite back his groan of appreciation. Sirius didn't waste the chance to delve further into Remus' mouth, exploring slowly.

It has to be a dream, Remus reminded himself. Any minute, someone would walk in and interrupt or Sirius would suddenly pull away and laugh cruelly while he declared 'jokes on you!', and then Remus would wake up in his bed back in Gryffindor tower, a little bit embarrassed and a little bit confused and a lot aroused.

But nobody came. Nobody burst through the curtains, cackling. And when Sirius finally pulled away from Remus' swollen, wet lips, it was only to take a breath before moving down to his neck.

Without thinking, Remus tilted his head to allow the darker boy's mouth better access, losing himself in the hot, damp sensation running down his throat. He was vaguely aware that his hands were clamped around Sirius' hips, his thumbs twisted in the belt loops of his trousers. He wasn't sure when that happened, either. Probably about the same time Sirius joined him on the bed, he mused.

This was all taking a bit longer than usual, he decided, and wherever had that interruption gotten to?

' Fuck - Remus - _Moony_ - have you - any - idea how - long - wanted - to do - this,' Sirius mumbled between kisses, trailing his way back up Remus' jaw line.

Talking was new, Remus registered. There wasn't usually talking in his dreams.

But then Sirius moved again, pulled back enough that their noses brushed together but not their lips. He looked down at Remus with those grey eyes, alight with a ramble of emotions Remus couldn't hope to decipher and, at the same time, darkened with want, a lust that made Remus' breath catch in his throat. Maybe not a dream, then. Those eyes hovered there, practically glowing in the dim room.

' Okay, Rem?' Sirius breathed, voice a little rough. ' Still with me?'

Remus nodded before he thought about it, not being able to even summon the words to express his loathing for the abbreviation of his name, and then all conscious thought ended when Sirius closed the gap between them again.

It was more heated this time, tongue and teeth clashing in their urgency. Hands wandered more freely, Remus twisting his fingers tightly into Sirius' shirt. Sirius managed to tug Remus' own pyjama top up enough to push his hand beneath the flannel fabric. His hands were inexplicably hot against Remus' cool skin, burning a trail of warmth up his stomach.

The fingers edged ticklish along Remus' ribs, and he tried not to laugh as he backed away from them. Having already been pressed against the headboard, he was most unsuccessful in his endeavour and when Sirius noticed his writhing Remus felt him grin through the kiss.

Sirius repeated the motion, more vigorously this time, and Remus couldn't quite bite back his giggle, even as he jerked violently away from the touch. The sudden movement was enough to throw the startled animagus off the little bed.

He crashed rather unceremoniously to the ground, hitting the cold stone floor hard and crumbling into a heap of long limbs and striped pyjamas and a steady stream of fluent and creative curses.

' Shh!' Remus hissed as the other boy tried to disentangle himself, very noisily. ' Madam Pomfrey'll hear you, you pillock.'

' You shoved me down here, dickhead. I'll make as much noise as I please, and then I'll tell her it was all your fault.'

' She wouldn't believe you over me. She actually likes me. And you deserved it. You know I don't like being tickled.'

' I didn't even know you were ticklish, you twat. You been keeping secrets from us, again?'

' It isn't a secret, you just never asked. And I think you'll find the reason I didn't openly volunteer that information to yourself or Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew is because _I don't like being tickled._' Remus grinned sheepishly down at him, then added, ' You know now.'

' Hmm,' Sirius replied, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes. ' I'm learning a lot of new things about you tonight, Lupin.'

' Are they all so terrible we're only formally addressing one another now, Black?' Remus asked, smiling and hoping his sudden surge of doubt didn't sound too obvious in his voice. This could still all turn out to be a very unfortunate cruel joke.

Ignoring the comment, Sirius continued. ' I'm learning that you are even more devious than we thought you were.'

' What?'

' Still all these secrets. I mean, you must've had some practise before now because that was one hell of a kiss.'

He was half-grinning when he spoke, but then the bravado fell away and Remus realised Sirius was as worried about this as he was. Those grey eyes, almost girlishly beautiful in the barely candlelit room, were wide and vulnerable and possibly even a little fearful.

' Is that some sort of backhanded compliment?' he asked, trying to ease the sudden tension.

Sirius was apparently having none of it, and dropped his gaze when he asked quietly, ' Where does this leave us, Remus?'

' I don't know,' Remus answered as honestly as possible, while indulging his sudden compulsion to brush Sirius' fringe out of his face. ' But I'd like to find out, I think.'

The darker boys eyes shot back up to meet Remus', a genuine grin lighting up his face this time. It was infectious, and Remus couldn't help grinning back.

' I -'

But before either one could say anything further, movement could be heard from the Matrons office. Remus briefly wondered what she was doing up in the middle of the night, but when his gaze flicked to the window he could see the sky lightening above the mountains.

' Bloody Hell,' he mumbled to himself, surprised at how the day seemed to sneak up on him.

Sirius reacted much quicker, hurrying back down the hall in well practiced, near silent movements and clambering back into his bed. Moments later, the little nurse made her perfunctory early morning rounds.

Remus closed his eyes, in no mood to be prodded and poked so early, and pretended not to be awake. The combined effects of the sleepless night and his recent transformation left his body exhausted, though, and he must have fallen genuinely asleep because when he opened his eyes again, the hall was fully lit to it's usual blinding white.

' Alright, Moonykins?' Sirius chirped through the curtain.

' Yeah,' Remus replied, with a certainty he hadn't known was there. ' Yeah, I'm good. You?'

' Never better.'

Remus reached across to pull back the curtain and succeeded just in time to see Sirius smiling brightly at him before James came strolling down the ward.

' Morning, Prongsie-wongs.'

James made a face and regarded Sirius bemusedly. ' Merlin, you're disgustingly chipper today. And I thought I told you not to call me that. You haven't said it in a year, I thought you'd forgotten.'

' This old dog never forgets, I'm afraid, Bambi.'

' I'm going to kill my dad for letting you watch those Muggle tapes,' James muttered, glowering. ' Hung, drawn and quartered. _Bambi_, really?'

' It's still better than _Moonykins_,' Remus felt the need to point out.

' Well, I can go with Moony-woons if you like,' Sirius grinned, ' but it doesn't have the same ring to it.'

' I know you struggle with the concept, Pads,' James said, slowly enunciating each word. ' But we already have nicknames. We don't really need nicknames of our nicknames. It's sort of overkill, mate.'

' How would you like it if we started calling you Paddsy-wads?' Remus asked.

James snorted. ' I'd think you were talking about the _feminine hygiene products_ Lily keeps in her drawers.'

' Ahh,' said Sirius, appreciatively. ' Good times. Is that when she -'

' Yeah,' James cut him off. ' With the hands and the -'

' - _"It'll be something more important next time, Potter!"_ -'

' And then she -'

' Brilliant,' Sirius nodded. ' That colour suited you. So did the extra extremities. She's a genius, that girl, you know.'

' I know,' James sighed worshipfully. ' Never did tell me why she was so upset about it.'

They both adopted identical expressions of nostalgia and there was a moments silence before Remus put in, ' That you even have to ask that question is answer in itself, I think, Prongs.'

' Yeah, you're probably right,' he replied, shaking himself out of the memory. ' Anyway, glad to see you're okay, Moony. You too, I suppose,' he added, raising an eyebrow at Sirius.

' I know you love me really. I mean, who doesn't?'

Remus snorted with laughter before he could stop himself, covering his mouth with his hand.

' What did you say, Moony, _'An answer in itself'_? I don't think he loves you, Pads,' James said, missing the significant glance between his canine friends.

' I don't even like him,' Remus deadpanned. Sirius threw his pillow at the werewolf, just as the Matron peered out of her office.

' I see you're feeling better, Mr Black,' she said only half-sternly as she shoed James out of the way at waved her wand vaguely at the boy in the bed. She nodded, satisfied. ' I'll check Remus over and then I think you can go. And I don't want to see any of you back again for a few days, if you please.'

She gave a warning look to James and Sirius, then an exasperated roll of her eyes to Remus when they first two only smirked and shrugged.

' Well,' James said, forty minutes and more than a few cautionary potions later, as they made their way out of the hospital. ' It's nice to see you two back in good spirits. I was beginning to feel like I was caught up in one of those angst-y women's love stories my Mum reads. Kissed and made up, have you?'

He didn't understand why both of his companions struggled to suppress giggles the rest of the way to breakfast, and Remus didn't feel the need to enlighten him.

**Okay. As much as I appreciate favs and alerts and the like, for this chapter I am willing to beg - **_**BEG**__** -**_** for reviews. Please. I have never, **_**ever**_**, written anything even remotely similar to this before, and I am getting very nervous and jittery about it. Any sort of feedback would really make me very happy, even if you just want to tell me it's shit. Really. Thanks.**

**On a similar note, I don't know how much of this type of thing you guys are expecting, but I intend to get back to the Marauders as a group a bit more, just so you know. **

**And, in case anyone was wondering, the title is referring to kisses and humour. The best medications for almost any problem, in my professional opinion. I think that's it, really. Thanks for reading!**


	27. The Scowling Owl

**The Scowling Owl**

Sirius was a Black.

It was not a fact her generally flaunted. It wasn't something to be proud of, in his opinion. Whenever he could, he would flat out deny any similarity he had to the family he was never good enough for. But as the end of October drew near, he was almost thankful for it. For once in his life, it had been a good thing. Well, sort of.

Not the actual relation, of course. But the traits it gave him. Not the physical ones, either. He rather felt he deserved those - if he was going to be emotionally stunted, mentally unstable and die young, the least he wanted in return were soft hair, smooth skin and handsome regal features.

No, for the moment at least, he was thankful for all the annoyingly debilitating emotional deficiencies. The impatience that led him to confront Remus in the hospital wing, the easy frustration that sparked off the conversation and then his inability to censor himself once he started. Never mind that it was the same family traits that caused the problem in the first place, the mistake of choosing self-preservation over honesty.

Not that it mattered anymore. He had finally talked to Remus and, more importantly, the werewolf hadn't reacted badly at all. Sirius had thought that maybe Remus had been avoiding him because he was disgusted with him for the kiss on the train. After all, what kind of bloke kisses his mate and then runs off without a word. Sirius had panicked, but it never crossed his mind that Remus might have too.

But all was well again, now. Better, in fact, than it had been before. Mainly because now, in the place of the mutual avoidance and strained awkwardness between them, there was lots of rather gratifying snogging instead. It was a very bizarre, but very nice change.

So, Sirius found himself in a very good mood as the end of October came to an end. His Birthday passed with a very successful prank involving transfiguring each of the Slytherins into something resembling a Gorgon and lots of strawberries. The other three quarters of the student body found it hilarious and, better still, Dumbledore was so impressed with the transfiguration skill involved, he stopped McGonagall from punishing them too severely.

October faded into November, heralded only by the increased frequency of torrential rain and howling winds. Sirius hadn't felt so relaxed in ages, and even found himself able to enjoy the simplicity of pretending to study in the library while Remus helped Peter finish his Herbology homework and James peered creepily through the bookshelves at Evans.

' You have never looked more like a stalker than right now, Prongs,' Sirius felt the need to say. ' Including the time you went through her underwear.'

' What about all the actual stalking he did last year?'

' Good point, Pete, but I couldn't _see_ him then.'

' Well, no. He was under the cloak, but we all knew he was there.'

' That's all well and good, but can we concentrate, please?' Remus asked an apologetic Peter, exasperatedly pushing his fringe out of his eyes. ' Now, Pete, the difference between Poisonous and Venomous plants, if you would.'

' Err… Right. I know this. Poisonous are deadly when…' he paused and scrunched up his face in thought. Remus only smiled encouragingly. ' When you bite them?'

' Yes, good, and Venomous?'

' Are deadly when they bite you,' Peter finished with a strange sort of half-conviction half-concern.

' Well done, Wormtail,' Sirius said, as patronisingly as possible. ' Glad you've got your head round that particular conundrum.'

' Not everyone is a good as you are at everything without trying, Pads,' Remus said, placatingly. ' Could you at least pretend to be reading something?'

He shoved a heavy, leather-bound book across the table before turning back to Peter. Sirius pulled the book closer and read the title.

' _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_. I hardly think I need any help with that particular subject, Moony,' he said, haughtily before scoffing at the author. ' Gilli Gellio. What sort of a stupid name is that?'

' Not really one to comment on stupid names, are you Pads?' Peter said with a definite smile in his voice, though he didn't look up from his book.

' What're you on about?'

' Well, I'm no 'O' in Astronomy, but isn't _Sirius_ the alpha star of the Canis Major?'

' He's right,' Remus chirped in, clearly enjoying himself. ' You great stupid mutt.'

' Oh, and you can talk, Lupin?' Sirius replied accusingly. ' Got a secret twin we don't know about, or did he stay in Italy?'

' Fair point,' Remus conceded, looking faintly impressed. ' How do you know about Muggle Mythology?'

' My old Matron was mad on the Romans. That's probably why she was sacked. Shame, I always liked her. She never babied Regs. That might be why she was sacked, too.'

' I have a boring name,' James put in, having finally admitted Lily wasn't going to need any books from the Illegal Sports and Events Section of the Library.

' What would you like to be called then, doe-eyes?'

' Not _Doe-eyes_ thanks, Sirius. I don't know. A good, old-fashioned wizarding name. James is just a stupid Muggle name my mum thought was _cute_.'

' What are proper wizarding names then?' Peter asked. ' Your mum and dad are called Arianne and Marcellus, not really over-the-top like his lot.'

He nodded towards Sirius, who looked affronted but managed to stay silent when Remus patted his leg under the table and said, quietly. ' I like your name.'

James heard the comment, though, and added, ' Yes, it's very _pretty_.'

' Fuck off, _James_.'

' Well it is a bit girly, isn't it? Being named after stars - the pretty little glittery things in the sky. And won't you run out, eventually? I mean, you're Sirius the third, aren't you? Surely you can't just keep repeating yourselves.'

' I didn't pick my name, you know. It's nothing to do with me. Blame them.'

' I like it,' Remus repeated. ' Very appropriate. I've got to wonder, though, how far they'll go with it. They've already got the Dog, Lion and Hydra. When they run out of fierce creatures, are they going to use the nicer ones?'

' Cygnus is the Swan, isn't it?' Sirius said, trying to remember obscure relatives and recall their names. ' But you're right. They'll probably skip over Delphinus and Dorado and go for Draco, instead.'

' I understand that,' Peter said, picking up where he left off. ' And, aren't all the Malfoy's named after Emperors? But that's still a family tradition more than a Wizarding one. And Remus, well, clearly your dad has the Sight.'

' He kind of has a point, Prongs.'

' Somewhere in that nonsense, maybe,' Remus said, frowning a little. Sirius had to stop himself from reaching out to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. ' But I have to agree, I don't know what you mean by _traditional Wizarding Names_ either.'

James sighed dramatically, looking extremely dejected that the conversation had lasted this long. ' Okay. Like… Wilberforce. Nice old-fashioned name. And Bathsheba, fairly standard one. Or something more interesting… Like, Elvendork.'

Remus coughed, licked his lips and then swallowed before repeating, miraculously with a straight face, ' Elvendork?'

' Hmm,' Peter said thoughtfully. ' Isn't that a girl's name?'

' Oh yes,' Sirius chimed in. ' I have a great Auntie Elvendork.'

' Really?'

' No.'

' It isn't a girls name!' James cried, genuinely indignant. ' It's unisex!'

' Of course,' Remus said in his best innocent voice. ' Is Wilberforce unisex, too?'

James, sensing they were mocking him, pouted. ' Fuck you then. The lot of you. Horrible friends that you are.'

' Aw, don't fret Prongs,' Sirius said, patting his fellow pureblood on the shoulder supportively. ' You can always see about persuading Evans to let you name the firstborn.'

The messy haired boy brightened in an instant, grinning while they tidied away their books. They stood and shuffled past a very relieved looking Madam Pince towards the door. For some strange reason, she never did relax when James or Sirius were in there, amongst the sanctity of her books. Sirius grinned and waved at her, and Remus shook his head in affectionate exasperation.

Sirius would have gladly said he had never been happier, even if Remus did drag him to the Library more often. He should've know, then, that something unpleasant was lurking just around the corner. Literally, in this case, as they turned out of the Library and found themselves face to face with a huge owl.

It was midnight black, feathers - which ruffled impatiently - flecked with silver. It's eyes were a piercing orange and, combined with the general air of standoffishness, it could have been scowling.

' Wonder where that's from,' Remus said, dryly.

' Gah!' was Peter's contribution, as he walked into the back of James, who looked wholly unimpressed.

' Have I ever mentioned that your family can be entirely too dramatic, Pads?'

' Besides just now?' Sirius asked, distractedly.

He stepped forwards and reached cautiously towards the disdainful animal, which nipped grumpily at his fingers anyway, then raised it's beak pompously before reluctantly sticking out it's leg.

' Even your bloody owls have a superiority complex,' muttered Peter, who was ignored.

' Padfoot?' Remus said, looking concerned with the sudden silence. Normally, Sirius would read out his mother's drivel and punctuate it with curses and suggestions of what she could do with her 'Proper Pureblood behaviour'. ' Sirius?'

' Their bloody owls,' Sirius clarified, jaw set, having finished with the letter.

' Err, what's that mate?' James asked tentatively, the same concern mirrored in his face. ' You aren't making sense.'

Rather than repeat himself - something Sirius hated doing under any circumstance - he thrust the letter at nobody in particular, letting it float serenely in their general direction. James and Remus both made a grab for it, but Quidditch reflexes won out and the boy couldn't contain a triumphant squeak, even as he straightened his glasses.

' Just read it,' Remus huffed, failing to completely hid his irritation.

' I'm getting to it,' James replied, dramatically smoothing out the parchment and putting on his best superior voice. ' Dear Mr. Black. As your parent's representative in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Family Affairs Division, it is my duty to inform you of your official and immediate…' James' face fell, as did his haughty posture. His mouth flapped uselessly for a moment before he managed to choke out, ' Disownment? Shit, mate, I'm sorry.'

Sirius felt himself prickle. He didn't want their pity, and James of all people should know that! Sirius distantly knew he probably didn't mean it, James couldn't think what to say and 'sorry' was an automatic reaction, but it annoyed him all the same. He opened his mouth to tell James very specifically where he could shove his pity, but a hand on his shoulder halted him.

' Don't be,' Remus said firmly.

' Right,' James said, snapping out of his stunned silence and switching straight into _Gallant Hero_ _mode_. ' I didn't think. This is good! You're rid of them now! Properly rid of them!'

' There's more,' Peter mumbled, picking up the letter. ' As you are now of Age, you are hereby ostracised from any and all financial support from your parents, both monetary and asset. If you have any further enquiries, please contact me via owl at the Ministry. Clytemnestra Crabbe.'

Peter lowered the parchment, looking a little alarmed, but Remus stopped him before he could say anything. ' Well that's nothing new, is it?'

' Err,' Sirius said, taken off-guard by the direct question. ' No. Course not. She probably blasted me off the family tree back in July.'

' Exactly,' Remus said, so calmly Sirius wanted to kiss him, beggar the others. ' This is just a formality, really. Nothing is any different, okay.'

It wasn't a question, and it didn't need to be. He was right, and now that he had said it they all understood that it was perfectly okay. They all stood quietly for a moment, and then Sirius smiled and the stillness broke.

' Give me that, Pete,' James said, snatching the letter back without waiting for an answer and holding the end of his wand to it. ' _Incendio_. Right. All taken care of, no worries. Let's go eat, I'm starving.'

' Clearly,' Sirius said sarcastically, grinning and slapping the boy's backside. ' Now, get your fat arse out of my way, Potter!'

And they raced to the Great Hall.

**Wow! Sorry I haven't updated in ages, been busy with Christmas and all. Pesky holiday that it is. But, it is a longer chapter, please accept it as my humble apology and do not eat me!**

**Firstly, Thank you so very, very much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I very much needed to hear you were all happy with the story, thank you!**

**booksmartblonde333 - Your first sentence was hilarious, I totally deserved that and it made me look like a right loon when I laughed out loud in the middle of the college library! Thank you!**

**DemyxTheMenace - **_**'Sorry...reviewing chapter, not fangirling' **_**Aren't they the same thing, in essence? Anyway, I don't mind! Fangirl all you like!**

**And another BIG! Thank You to everyone else, too! **

**Anyway, moving on… I said I wanted to get back to the Marauders as a whole, and I did a bit more in this chapter. I sort of based this on my relationship. When we first got together, at 15, we weren't really any different because we had been such close friends before, just more kissing involved in private. I figured that'd be the same with the pups, what with the awkwardness and all, they'd probably be taking it pretty slow!**

**I didn't want to go overboard with the disownment thing, either. I guess all the dramatics happened a few chapters back, and I don't think much else could be said or done. That isn't to say Sirius wouldn't be a little bothered by it, just not enough not to be able to hide.**

**I had to have the names discussion, I'm sorry. As much as I love JK, her names were a bit groan worthy at times. Anybody not up with Roman Mythology, Remus and Romulus were twins raised by wolves and the founders of Rome. Oh, and in case anybody was wondering about the Constellation names - Sirius is the dog, obviously. Regulus is the Lion. and Alphard is the Hydra. Delphinus is the Dolphin and Dorado is the Goldfish. Draco, of course, Dragon, poor boy. Not that the other options are much better. I also had to include _Elvendork_. Absolutely brilliant. When I read the prequel - look it up, if you don't know - I got the impression it was a bit of a running joke, so here it is. I couldn't help myself. Sorry.**

**That is all, I think! Thank you ever so much for reading, reviews make me look crazy in front of my fellow students! Danke Schoen! **


	28. Even to the Best of Us

**Even to the Best of Us**

Much to Minerva McGonagall's exasperation, James Potter was not an idiot. At least, not in the intellectual sense of the word.

Sure, James could be a bit reckless - though, thankfully, not as much as a certain disowned member of the Black family - and a bit childish - almost on par with a giddy Peter on Sugar-high, at times - and more than a bit mischievous - and never as good at hiding it as Moony - but he was not generally stupid.

He had, of course, done some fairly stupid things in his time. Almost every prank he and Sirius had ever pulled involving a bathroom had been a drastic mistake and nearly always ended soggy-ly and stinky-ly and extremely regretfully. Somehow, they always managed to forget that the next time they decided to flood the dungeons, though.

It was also fairly stupid of him, when he looked back on it, to have spent the whole of fourth and fifth year hexing Snivellus in front of the lovely Lily-flower, who was one of the only people on the planet who could stand the greasy bastard. He would still hex him, of course, but more discreetly now and when Lily was decidedly absent.

James had also, once, made the _very _stupid mistake of swearing in front of his mother. While Arianne was so thrilled to have been blessed with James at a much later point in her life than intended and was therefore very doting and forgiving of him, she was also a rather old-fashioned type of woman. And she did not tolerate cursing in her house. It was the only time James had ever been smacked, by either of his parents, and it was not an experience he cared to repeat.

He had been called stupid by a fair number of the staff at Hogwarts, too. He knew none of them really meant it - little Fillius Flatwick never did manage to hide his smiles completely, and everyone knew McGooglies had a soft spot the size of Mongolia for the Marauders - and, really, how could they, when James and Sirius achieved straight Os in everything and Remus wasn't far behind. They even managed to drag Peter up a few grades in Transfiguration, though there wasn't much hope for him in Herbology.

No, James Potter was most certainly not stupid. And, as such, he did not miss the sudden changes in two of his best friends.

He didn't know what to make of it, at all. Not the foggiest. Sometimes it was such little things that he convinced himself he was imagining it all, anyway, and that there was nothing different about them in the least. But other times it was so strikingly obvious that he couldn't keep up the pretence. He was curious, he'd readily admit, and a little bit nosy. He also felt annoyingly left out, and that wouldn't do at all.

November began in an incredibly drizzly haze that was more suited to April than anything else, but quickly dissolved into full on winter frosts. By mid-month the snow was thick around the castle, and the surrounding mountains could hardly be made out amongst the all-consuming whiteness.

James awoke on one such frosty morning to find Remus already up, fully dressed in his uniform and robes, sitting on the end of his bed. He was smiling, and when James turned to grope for his glasses he knew why. Sirius' face appeared, close enough to be perfectly in focus, plastered with that shit-eating grin of his. James realised his ear was wet and cold, and that Sirius had been blowing air at it to aggravate the damp skin, and swiped at the side of his head irritably.

' Urgh,' James managed, shoving his best mate away and dragging himself up. ' I hate it when you're such a good mood in the mornings. It's sinful. Blasphemy. And it almost always means you're going to get us in trouble today.'

That wasn't strictly true. This time last year, yes; it would've meant Padtfoot had a good mischief-making idea in the night and was ready to share it with the rest of the school population. But lately it was a more frequent occurrence, and those mornings no longer coincided with mischievous afternoons.

' No idea what you mean, Bambi.'

He bounded across the room, more like his canine counterpart than a teenage boy, and ducked behind a mildly amused looking Remus before James could even groan at the Disney reference.

' Sorry,' the werewolf said, not sounding even remotely apologetic. ' But we're going to be late if you don't get up, and Padfoot volunteered to help.'

' Of course he did,' James grumbled, grabbing at the nearest set of robes. ' Help! Hah! Suppose you let me sleep through breakfast, too?'

' You so very rarely sleep in, we thought we'd allow you the indulgence.'

' So kind of you. Now I'm going to starve while Raison drones on at us.'

' On the bright side,' Sirius said, disgustingly cheerfully, ' you can't vomit at the sight of Snivellus if you've nothing in you to begin with.'

' Every cloud…' Remus added, not quite managing to stop the corner of his mouth from twitching upwards.

James felt stupidly ganged up on. It was daft, he knew, because how many times had he and Sirius done exactly the same thing to the others? Only it was much more annoying on this end of the exchange. He almost felt like he should find Peter and apologise to him for all those occasions when he thought Pete was just being a bit too slow to follow a plan properly. That said, he felt the need to enlighten Sirius to this fact.

' I like that,' he flicked his fingers between them, ' a lot more when we do it, Pads.'

' Err… Do what, mate?' Sirius asked slowly, sounding a little distressed. Remus looked highly entertained by the suggestion, though James couldn't fathom what was so humorous.

' That, y'know, talking between words and the being in on a private joke nobody else gets. It's actually really annoying.'

' Oh,' Sirius said, looking almost relieved. ' No worries, Prongs, there's no joke. Marauder's honour.'

Despite Sirius' claim, the pair continued to be very giggly all the way down to the DADA classroom. The teacher this year was Professor Raison - an extremely tall, extremely thin man who walked with his knees constantly bent slightly. In his black robes he reminded James of a spider, moving around jerkily and warily but confidently. He was also the most boring live professor in the whole castle, with a reedy, whispering voice that could rival that of Binn's and a firm belief in textbook study over practical demonstrations.

The class was almost intolerable after the energetic teaching of Professor Knox the year before, and James was even more put out when Sirius switched seats with Peter at the beginning of the class.

James resolutely spent the rest of the day sulking. Sirius had never not sat with him before, with the exception of _The Prank_ and it's aftermath when he didn't sit with anyone. James felt abandoned.

Even in Muggle Studies, which Remus - having a muggle mother - didn't take, James was in such a strop he barely spoke to Sirius anyway. Not even Professor Milles, with her cheery disposition and enchanting Welsh accent, could rouse him from his downer.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that he was being melodramatic. He was acting every inch the angsty teenager, blowing it out of proportion and skulking about like it was someone else job to fix the problem.

But he couldn't help it. Sirius and he had always been the team, the pair of fools, the brothers in everything but blood. Now, it seemed, James wasn't wanted anymore. Obviously the canine bond exceeded six years of solid best-friendship.

He was in a very bitter, spiteful mood when he slumped into a chair to one side of the common room that evening, alone. Sirius and Remus had disappeared again, and Peter had his gobstones club. James felt used. He knew he shouldn't - being a good friend was important to all your mates, not just the best one - but he couldn't stop the thoughts flittering in his head.

_It wasn't Remus who put him up this summer, was it? It wasn't Remus pretending not to hear Sirius' whimpering in his sleep, not bringing up the nightmares for fear of upsetting him further. It wasn't Remus who spent two months thinking of new ways to distract him, keep him busy so he didn't vanish for hours and re-emerge with unexplained cuts and bruises._

James didn't know how long he was slumped there with a face like thunder before he was stirred from his thoughts.

' What's the matter with you? I haven't even rejected you yet today.'

Some distant part of James' brain recognised the harmonious voice of one Lily Evans and jumped for joy at the thought of her willingly talking to him. Unfortunatly, this part was distinctly disconnected to the larger, more bitter section of grey matter, and completely missed it's chance to say something smart, witty or cute.

' Fuck off, Evans.'

Smooth.

' Well,' she huffed, putting her hands on her gorgeous hips in a clear effort to look affronted, but she didn't leave. ' I was only seeing if you were alright.'

' You haven't cared if I was alright for six years, have you? And it's none of your damn business anyway. So, if you'd kindly piss off.'

He pretty face visibly fell into a deep frown. She was almost pouting, and at any other time James would've kissed her there and then, and quite happily spent the night in the hospital wing dealing with the consequences.

' I was trying to be nice. Clearly a concept you struggle with. You can be a right nasty pasty sometimes, Potter.'

' I'll nasty _your_ pasty, Evans,' came the reply in a familiar voice.

Lily didn't even bother with a retort. Having looked past James to find Sirius wearing his best lewd look, she turned on her heel and stomped away muttering words like _incorrigible_ and _immature. _James didn't look up as Sirius plonked himself down on the chair arm.

' What's up, then?' he asked.

' Nothing,' James answered immediately.

' Right,' Sirius said, in a voice that clearly stated his disbelief. ' You've got a face like a smacked arse and you've barely said two words to me all day.'

' So? Doesn't mean anything.'

' You just told Evans to fuck off, Prongs.'

James couldn't really argue with that one. He had, indeed, told Lily to fuck off. Oh God. But while he couldn't deny that fact, he was a far cry away from admitting his mounting feeling of rejection.

He settled for asking, in what he hoped was a neutral voice, ' Where's Moony?'

Clearly he failed as undisguised realisation flitted across Sirius' face. James supposed it was a mark of their friendship that Sirius didn't laugh or scoff or even acknowledge the revelation that he - James Potter - was, in fact, jealous.

' Library,' Sirius dutifully answered the question. ' Never could stand to sit in there, myself. Far too quiet.'

' Yeah,' James agreed, deciding the best way to show he was thankful was to cheer up a bit. ' And with Pince stalking around like a great, ugly vulture.'

' Hmm. And it isn't the same pretending to study without you peering stalkerishly through bookshelves at certain unmentionable red-heads.'

' No idea what you're talking about,' James hastily denied, before they both laughed.

It was nice, after the miserable brooding day he'd had, and James felt absolutely daft for even considering that Sirius could have replaced him. He was irreplaceable!

But he still wasn't stupid, and something was still different about his best mates.

After what it'd cost him today, he resolved to get to the bottom of it if it killed him. Then he groaned and burried his head in his hands.

' I told Lily Sex-on-legs Evans to _fuck off_! Oh, Pads, what have I done?'

**I am so ridiculously apologetic for the update gap words cannot suffice. I'm sorry! I really am. But real life got in the way, and the longer I wasn't writing the more I worried I wouldn't be able to get back into it properly. But I did, and here you are.**

**A massive thanks to everyone who reviewed! 116! Wahey! Also, my implicit gratitude to **_**CryptoSquirrel**_**, and a massive tirade of messages/alerts/favs/reviews that guilted me into writing again. Thank you!**

**With regard to some reviews - Firstly, thanks to the people who pointed out errors. I don't have a beta, and spellchecker does miss errors so long as they're real words. I proof read all chapters before I post them, but I'm not perfect. I will try to get them fixed. Secondly, someone mentioned The Shoebox Project. I haven't actually read it - I know, Blasphemy! - so I don't know if this story being considered similar is a compliment or a criticism, so Thanks and apologies, I guess. **

**Anyway, the chapter, yes. Decided to have a moody, teenage James for once. I've read plenty of stories where Sirius is jealous of James and Lily but none the other way around, interestingly enough. Why wouldn't James get a bit annoyed by his friends being suddenly secretive? And Harry did have some very angsty misunderstood moments, I figure he had to get that penchant for melodrama from somewhere. I also figure James isn't the type to hold a grudge, either, so hurray for short-lived misery!**

**I have most of the next chapter written already, so it'll be up in a few days. It's another Peter chapter, by the by. Make of it what you will.**

**Anywho! I have rambled quite enough now, Thank you for reading, reviews make me smile, Danke schoen!**


	29. The Little People

**The Little People**

Bugger.

Such a little word, but so appropriate in so many situations. It can be awfully expressive, and adaptive, and incredibly useful. It also happened to be the only word rattling around one Peter Pettigrew's head.

Bugger.

Peter was sat on his bed in the dorm he hadn't slept in. He hadn't slept at all, truth be told. He was exhausted and tense and really wanted to skive Charms and Potions, go rat and curl up under his pillow to sleep until lunch. Between the three of them, they had learned that their animagus forms generally felt emotions less sharply than normal, and Peter used the technique whenever he had nightmares and couldn't get to sleep on his own. If it wasn't such a complicated and, y'know, illegal form of magic, he would gladly recommend it as a cure for insomnia. Sadly, his comforting plan of fur and warmth was short lived. He was pretty sure Flatwick would notice their collective absence, even if Slughorn wouldn't.

Sirius was sat cross-legged on the floor, silently glowering out at the room. James was standing at the bottom of his own unused bed, rhythmically banging his forehead against the hard wood of the nearest post. It was almost hypnotic, and Peter spent a few moments just watching. When he finally shook himself out of his trance, he made the mistake of muttering aloud.

' Bugger.'

' Bugger? Do you know the meaning of the word understatement, Peter?'

Peter knew it had only been a matter of time before Sirius exploded, but it still made him jump. Peter did, in fact, know the meaning of the word understatement, but he felt it would be detrimental to his health to point that out. He also knew the meaning of the word predicament, which was undoubtedly what they were in.

As per every full moon, they had followed Remus to the shack, transformed with him and then taken the wolf for his run around the forest. But he'd made a dash for it when they stopped for a moment's rest. They'd lost him.

They had lost him. At least, that's what Sirius kept reminding them. Peter thought it was more of a technicality than anything else. Yes, they had lost sight of him. And, yes, it had seemed like an eternity until they found him; chasing a rabbit, safely in the confines of the forest. But in reality, it'd only been minutes.

Peter supposed that didn't really matter; The technicalities, the actualities. What mattered were the possibilities. They lost him. What if they hadn't found him? What if it'd been more than just a brave rabbit they found him with? What if he had bolted out of the forest boundaries; to the village, or the school?

' Bugger,' Peter mumbled again, thankfully unheard as Sirius started up his own stream of profanity.

' Shit, bastarding hell -'

James had abandoned his attempt at self-inflicted brain damage and started pacing back and forth across the room instead. He kept flashing in and out Peter's field of vision, making him oddly dizzy for someone sat still.

Peter had another urge to curl up and make himself very small, do anything to avoid the looming maelstrom. He liked to think that was the rat instinct, still fresh in his system, but he couldn't be sure.

' - twated buggering Christ -'

But the maelstrom didn't happen. It frightened Peter more that nothing happened. Apart from Sirius' mumbling and James' footfalls, all was silent. The quiet was unnerving. Not as unnerving as the fact that James looked lost. James-I've-always-got-a-back-up-plan-and-if-not-we'll-get-by-on-my-charm-alone-Potter looking like a deer in the headlights. Or a stag. Or any other kind of Cervidae species, for that matter.

Peter found himself wondering again at the psychological intricacies of the frequent animal transformations. Was Sirius actually more doggy, or was it just more noticeable once they knew he could actually turn into one?

Perhaps not the time to be pondering such things, Peter knew, but at least it gave him something to focus on besides the incessant muttering and rhythmic pacing on the suddenly small feeling room.

' - bloody sodding fuck!' Sirius cried, kicking the bathroom door just because it was near enough. Peter thanked whatever higher-power made sure he had been out of reach.

The wooden _clunk _echoed ominously around the room, the resounding silence pressed against Peter's eardrums almost painfully. James stopped his pacing. The moment stretched on and on, until Peter couldn't take it anymore.

' Maybe we should go down to breakfast,' he suggested.

' Breakfast!' Sirius practically yelled. ' Is that all you can think about, you chubby little shit? Nevermind someone else's problems, as long as Petey-boy's got his eggs and bakey!'

Peter, stung, hesitated. He was well aware of his pudginess, especially sat as he was in a room with two of the most desirable boys in the school. They usually had the tact not to mention it, though, and it was this breech of trust that offended Peter, not the rather weak insult. Well, that, and the fact that Peter wasn't in the least bit hungry.

' Sirius,' James warned half-heartedly. Then he added, quietly, ' Pete's right. Remus missing breakfast is nothing new, but none of us turning up will get people's attention.'

Sirius grunted, clearly not happy about it but seeing the logic, and the three trouped grumpily down to the great hall.

It was a subdued affair, to say the least. The customary polite enquiries about Remus' illness, and whispers as the rumour mill churned out a reason for the general Marauder exhaustion. Lily Evans even pulled Peter aside to give her well wishes to Remus, because she was still pretending James and Sirius didn't exist after an argument Peter had missed. The details were sketchy, but it was bad enough for her to blank them completely, so Peter hadn't asked.

The mornings lessons passed in a moody silence, as did lunch. They popped up to the hospital wing, but Remus was sleeping. McGonagall even called them out in transfiguration when James left the ears, whiskers and a tail on the mouse he was supposed to be vanishing. It wasn't until History of Magic that he got that hint of the usual Prongs mischief glinting in his eyes.

Half way through the lesson, Peter was pulled from his drone induced trance when a scrap of parchment was slammed onto the desk.

_I've been thinking_, it read.

Peter thought it showed the gravity of the situation that nobody said, ' Oh, dear.' Sirius raised his eyebrows as the idea clearly crossed his mind, but seemed to think better than to vocalise it.

Instead, he snatched up the parchment and scribbled on the back of it, _About?_

_Well,_ Peter read as James wrote, _Our location problem._

Sirius tapped his fingers impatiently.

_And the solution_, James elaborated with a dramatic flourish.

Sirius made a growling noise in the back of his throat before whacking James hard around the back of the head.

' Stop fucking about, Potter!'

' Ow! What was that for, you pillock?'

' The flourish did it, I think,' Peter supplied.

' What flourish? I didn't…' James trailed off at the look on Sirius' face. ' Okay, okay. Sorry. I was just thinking -'

' Yes. You've said that. Do you actually have an answer or not?'

' Not. That is, I don't.'

' What. The. Fuck. Are you on about?'

' Well, it was more Pete's idea, really,' James gestured toward Peter and Sirius turned expectantly to face him, too.

Peter tried to speak, but only managed to flap his mouth a bit. He was becoming thoroughly flustered and, annoyingly, James seemed to be enjoying watching too much to actually explain himself. Sirius was growing more and more threatening - Peter more alarmed - and when James finally decided to interrupt with a cough, Peter actually sighed with relief.

' Will you stop pissing about, and get to the point.'

' Alright, alright. Untwist your knickers, we know you're worried about Moony -'

' We lost him, Prongs! What he going to do when we tell him? He'll never let us go with him again.'

' Which is why we won't.'

' Won't what?' Peter asked, confused.

Sirius shot him a withering look before casting an incredulous one at James.

' We can't not tell him!'

' Course we can. Can't. I don't know, whatever. Point is, we don't have to. Not if Pete's idea works.'

' But I don't have an idea,' Peter blurted, trying to ignore yet another disdainful glance aimed his way.

' Of course you do, Petey-boy!' James cried, patting him on the back. ' We need a map.'

**Hooray, update. Sorry, sorry it has taken so long. As mentioned in my other story, my computer died and I lost all my data. It's taken quite some time to get everything back into some sort of an order. Now that it is, updates should be a bit more frequent again. **

**So, yes. Marauder's Map ahoy. I don't really have anything to say about this chapter. Sorry it's a bit short and not particularly exciting, but something needed to happen to make the Map a necessity. I dunno. Hope it isn't too bad for you.**

**I am a bit behind schedule now, with all the problems, so the next few chapters will be Christmas ones. Just so you know.**

**Thanks for reading, reviews always appreciated. Danke schoen.**


	30. Steam, or Possibly Smoke

**Steam, or Possibly Smoke**

Christmas was one of those times of year that Sirius loved.

Not very surprisingly, the Blacks weren't big on Christmas in the usual sense.

They couldn't abide the Muggle connotations of the holiday, and the certainly didn't do the whole _celebration of togetherness_ rubbish that most of the wizarding community went for. For them, as with most things, Christmas was all about a front. Looking good. That's all that ever mattered to them.

So, for eleven years, Sirius' idea of Christmas had been that it was yet another excuse for his parents to invite people over and parade him about for them. It all passed in a blur of out-of-place colourful decorations that he wasn't allowed to go near, more obscure ancient relatives he had never seen before and a boxing day spent hiding with Regs in the attic from his father - who came complete with a hangover no potion could cure, a habit of waving his fists about and ', _two sniffling little boys about here somewhere that need the sense beating into them'._

Maybe that was why, his first year at Hogwarts, at the first snow fall, he had stood and stared out of the window for most of the morning, until James finally told him to grow a pair and go for a run in it. Sirius had thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life, and was a little overwhelmed. James, intuitive bastard he could be sometimes, seemed to pick up on something of Sirius thoughts, because they had spent the full day frolicking on the grounds.

It had become somewhat of a ritual since. The day of the first heavy snowfall, he and James would bolt outside and run about like little kids.

Unfortunately for Sirius, the first snowfall this year had occurred while they were in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and when Professor Raison noticed Sirius gazing out of the window instead of reading about none-verbal spells, he waved a gangly arm and conjured heavy curtains that darkened the room so much it made it impossible to read anyway.

The class grumbled as one, and Sirius made out Peter, sat in front of him, muttering, ' Wouldn't even expect Snivelly to live like this,' at the same time that James, beside him, whispered loudly, ' Like we can't already do all this shite.'

Sirius agreed to both with a mumbled, ' Arsehole,' and left it at that.

As much as he hated the spindly Professor, he wasn't much in the mood for ranting. He was a little bit worried, if he were honest.

It'd only been a few days since James' sudden u-turn on the whole map idea. They had gathered their thoughts together in a mismatched pile of parchment that were covered in half vanished words and smelt slightly singed with a hint of, bizarrely, cinnamon.

That didn't worry Sirius in the slightest. If anything, it reinforced the genius of the plan, seeing all the options all laid out together. It was like a huge prank, albeit a very complicated one, based on technicalities and hinging on precision rather than requiring skill and relying on timing.

James cleared his throat noisily on Sirius' right.

Sirius ignored him.

What worried Sirius was the whole part where they had to tell Remus about it. He wasn't stupid or slow or gullible, or any of those other things that would have made it a whole lot easier.

Sirius was, frankly, petrified. His stomach was turning, this wide open fear yawning in his gut.

_He'll figure it out. He'll figure it out._

Sirius was convinced. He'd know. The moment they mentioned to Moony, ' Oh, by the way, James has changed his mind, forget all that shit we gave Pete for the original idea, we're going to make a map that tracks people.'

It was running through his head like a backwards mantra; instead of calming it was making him more and more anxious.

_He'll figure it out. He'll figure it out._

Another loud, throat-clearing cough. This time, punctuated with the heavy slam of a closing textbook.

Sirius shook his head to clear it, and realised he had been staring at the back of Remus' head. About the same time he realised that not only had the class finished and was shovelling their things into their bags, but that James was staring at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Sirius blinked at him.

He cocked his left eyebrow, which twitched a little further up his forehead like a hairy, lazy caterpillar.

' That makes you look lopsided,' Sirius said, almost before he thought it.

James countered with, ' You were staring at Moony.'

' I was staring into space.'

' And Remus just happened to be there?'

' Yes.'

James opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again without uttering a word.

Sirius frowned.

James blinked.

There was something awfully calculating in those hazel eyes that made Sirius stomach twist nastily again.

' Come on then,' James said, very casually. ' Potions.'

' Right,' Sirius agreed after only a slight hesitation.

' Great,' James replied, far too cheerfully, before jumping up and jogging out of the room and heading for the dungeons after Evans.

Sirius groaned before following, at a much more leisurely pace. James had been wholly annoying in his bid to get back into Evans' good books. And Sirius couldn't even find it properly entertaining because he was worrying about the whole fucking thing with the map.

Bollocks.

As expected, as he made his way to the most singed workspace in the dungeon - specially reserved for the four of them - Sirius found James draping himself across a certain redhead's cauldron.

' - give myself to you, Lily-flower. My whole self, in it's entirety. Everything -'

Sirius caught enough of the declaration to roll his eyes at Moony and Wormtail when he reached their desk.

They watched Prongs continue his hopeless speech while the class settled into their seats. Finally, Lily cut him off.

' Sorry, Potter. I don't accept cheap gifts.'

' Ouch,' Peter mumbled, as James made his way towards them, looking very poorly like a kicked puppy.

' Never mind,' Remus said, supportively. ' Maybe your mum kept the receipt.'

Sirius laughed, and relaxed a little.

He actually managed to concentrate on his Elixir of Euphoria long enough for it to turn a nice golden brown .

The mantra stopped whizzing across his brain, he zoned out and he calmed down a little.

Until he caught James saying the words _Train home, last year, combustible parchment, The List, Pete's idea _and, finally, _tracking spell._

Remus looked up at Sirius, raised an eyebrow, then looked back at James.

' Okay,' he said, ' How were you thinking?'

That horrible, yawning fear was back in Sirius' gut and - along with it's new partner in crime, nagging guilt - it was busying itself tying knots in his intestines.

The mantra was back, louder now, pounding on the inside of his skull.

_He'll figure it out. He'll figure it out._

_And - Fuck! - he'd overreact. _

_He always overreacted with the werewolf stuff. That's precisely why he still hadn't seen Sirius scratches. He'd completely and utterly blow it out of proportion._

' …Sirius?' Peter's squeaky, overly cautious voice broke into Sirius thoughts and grated irritably on his brain.

' Alright, Padfoot?' Remus asked, looking supremely concerned.

' Yeah,' Sirius mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and feeling his stomach lurch again. ' Just not feeling too good.'

' You were staring, again,' James said, then added deliberately, ' In to space.'

' You look like shit, mate,' Pete put it, sympathetically.

' Hm,' Sirius agreed, not trusting himself to open his mouth to reply.

At that moment, the potion in front of Sirius made a horrid watery _Mlurp_ sound, and let out a sudden belch of steam, or possibly smoke, so foul it made Sophie Erdington gag three tables away.

At the exact same time, a particularly violent twist tugged at Sirius' insides and, unable to resist, he threw up on the floor by James' feet.

' Charming.'

' Let's get you to the Hospital wing, Pads. You look awful.'

Sirius' vision blurred. He vaguely heard as Slughorn bustled over, wafting his chubby hands in front of his face and coughing dramatically.

' My, my. Not a proper lesson without a mishap in these parts, I suppose. What is it this time, lads?'

While Peter launched into a garbled explanation, Sirius tried to swallow. His throat felt like it was lined with puffskeins. The last thing he registered before descending into a fuzzy, achy haze was the slightly disappointed sigh of a aged man with the gut of a walrus examining a substandard potion.

' Ah, dear boy, you didn't add in the counter-clockwise stir.'

**Update, woo. Sorry, delay, real life. You know the drill by now.**

**I did mention I'm a little off timing now, so yes, Christmas in March. Oh well. The next chapter will be too. But there will be snogging in it, so y'know.**

**Thanks again to everyone who reads, and the few who review. Danke schoen!**


	31. Something Old, Something New

**Something Old, Something New**

Christmas morning always followed the same routine with the Marauders.

Since second year, they had all tried their very best to stay at the castle for the holidays. Armed with their best excuses, Peter, Remus and Sirius had convinced their parents to let them stay - Peter had needed to study more, Remus had played the '_but my friends…_' card and Sirius had persuaded his mother that he'd only disrupt the Christmas Ball if he were there anyway.

James had never needed to make excuses, of course.

Gradually, the others joined him in this category.

Since Remus had written so enthusiastically about his first Hogwarts Christmas, his dad took for granted that he would be staying there every year, unless otherwise informed.

Once OWLs hit, Peter was struggling to manage all his work so much that he did, actually, need to study over the holidays and, likewise, his parents took that for granted by now.

And Sirius. Well, Sirius didn't have a parent to ask, anymore. Not technically. And since the people he did consider his guardians were James' indulgent parents anyway, no permission needed.

So one tradition was gone, excess to requirements now. But there was still a routine, made up of little traditions. Most of them were silly, little things that had just stuck. Remus rather liked that they were close enough to have those quirks, the in-jokes. He thought Christmas epitomised that connection between them.

Christmas morning was the only one in the whole school year that did not fall the day after a full moon that all four Marauders were up before anyone else in the castle.

Mainly because, in first year, Peter awoke with the dawn and squealed, ' Happy Christmas,' at the top of his lungs. They had all grumbled about it, and James had hexed him to have a Father Christmas beard, and then tried to go back to sleep. Peter had been undeterred though, and bounced on their beds one at a time until they arose, then informed them that if they didn't want waking up thus every Christmas, they would have to get up before him. So they did.

Breakfast was a nonentity on Christmas Day, forsaken for a frolic out on the snowy grounds before anybody else got up to sully it.

They wrapped up warm and played about in the snow most of the morning, and sometimes some of the afternoon too, because of Sirius' strange obsession with the floating little flakes. Remus assumed it must be something to do with his family, because he hadn't been told and James seemed to have guessed, which is how they came to know almost everything they knew about Sirius' childhood.

Every year, James had found some inventive way of manipulating the castle mistletoe.

In the early years it'd been just for the laughs - catching the quiet little hufflepuffs with the biggest Slytherins they could find; pairing Snape up with professors. That sort of thing. It was only later, when James had finally looked up from the dungbombs long enough to notice that Lily Evans was a very strong, beautiful girl and not just a whiney, irritating swot, that he diverted his attentions elsewhere.

She hadn't taken to the idea thus far, and Remus was inclined to doubt the chances of this year's success.

No. This year, Remus was going to start his own tradition.

So what if it wasn't particularly original - _Christmas kisses _- it would still be something he had never really done before. Not properly.

And even if Sirius did always pinch a sprig of James's mistletoe each year and _spread the Christmas Spirit_, well, Remus would just have to make it something special.

It was nearing midday and, as per tradition, the four of them were out in the grounds. They were sodden, every one of them.

Remus could feel the damp on his skin, even through a vest, two t-shirts, a jumper, a jacket and a coat, complete with Sirius' Gryffindor scarf that he had never returned last year. Then again, they had been running about like utter fools all morning, so it cold be sweat.

It didn't matter really because, whatever it was, it was drying on his skin - freezing - and the cold seeped into his bones.

Peter, too, was shivering rather violently by the time he finally declared, ' Right, I need warming up.'

' You can't leave!' Sirius cried.

' Sorry, Pads,' Pete placated, ' But we've been out her for hours and I rather like my fingers attached to my hands. I'll see you later.'

' Yeah, That's right,' Sirius called after Peter's shrinking figure, sounding angry but grinning. ' Abandon us for the fucking Kitchens!'

' I hope the House Elves kick you out!' James put in, the added as an afterthought, ' Turncoat!'

Remus raised his eyebrows at the frankly peculiar insult. Sirius, too, cast a strange look at his best friend.

James swallowed. Too loudly. Sirius understood in an instant.

' Oh, no. Prongs, come on! You can't -'

' You know the drill, Pads,' James said, looking resigned. ' I've got to try.'

' But she'll say no! She always says no!'

' Thanks, mate. Really,' James said, a note of genuine annoyance in his voice as he turned away.

' No worries, Padfoot,' Remus said, trying not to sound too excited. ' Just the two of us, now.'

Sirius tilted his head and raised one eyebrow in a decidedly canine way, then grinned such a stupidly bright grin Remus thought for a moment that he actually felt warmer.

Then it passed and he added, with a shiver, ' But it can be the two of us, inside. Don't want you getting sick again.'

The castle was quiet in the absence of most of the students, and even some of the staff, and they walked all the way back to the common room before they saw another soul, and even then it was only Dorcas and her friend.

She rolled her eyes in their direction as Mary mumbled something about Lily and the library. Remus exchanged a look with Sirius, before the pureblood shook his head at the girl and held his fingers to his head in a strange imitation of what Remus supposed were meant to be antlers.

' C'mon,' he said, finally, grabbing Remus by the arm and dragging him in the general direction of the boys dorms. ' Let's get you out of those wet clothes, Moony.'

Choosing to ignore the strange expression of amusement on Dorcas' pretty face, Remus let Sirius lead him up the stairs and into their room.

Before Sirius had even closed the door, Remus grabbed him by the collar of his cloak. The fabric was sodden, and Remus untied it and let it fall to the floor with a wat slap before practically slamming the door shut himself.

' Whoa -' Sirius started to say, but Remus cut him off before he could ruin the moment.

He pressed his lips to Sirius' slightly parted ones, gently at first. This was becoming increasingly familiar, and Remus ran his hand across Sirius pale throat and up the back of his neck to tangle his fingers in his damp hair without hesitation.

He pulled them closer to each other, chests and stomachs touching, at the same time trying to navigate towards the wall. It was clumsy and awkward, but Remus didn't care much and, from the appreciative little groans, he surmised Sirius didn't either.

They finally hit the wall - though which one was anybody's guess - and Sirius managed a breathless little chuckle before Remus kissed him again. It was rougher now, more urgent, and Remus noticed how chapped both their lips were. He thought it probably shouldn't feel as nice as it did, but he wasn't going to complain.

Making use of his free hand Remus started unfastening the many layers of Sirius' sodden clothing. He just about managed to reach the cool skin of his stomach before Sirius pulled Remus' wandering fingers up to his neck like the first hand.

Sirius tried to take control of the kiss, plunging his tongue into Remus' mouth. Remus didn't let him. He nipped at Sirius' bottom lip, and pressed his knee against the wall between Sirius' legs to pin him there.

Sirius fought for a minute, arching away from the stones at his back, before submitting with a groan and pulling the werewolf closer still.

When Remus eventually pulled away to breathe, he caught sight of Sirius' bewildered face.

' What?' he asked, feeling oddly scrutinised.

' Err…' Sirius started. ' I just… Umm. Wasn't expecting - Oh, fuck. Do that again.'

Remus did, and his lungs were burning when he pulled back a second time.

' Wow.' Sirius swallowed, still staring a bit. Then he said, a bit dumbly, ' You have snowflakes in your hair.'

Before Remus could reach up to brush away to offending crystals, the door slammed open and James traipsed in clinking an armful of glass bottles.

Sirius literally jumped back a pace, or at least tried to, slamming his elbow into the wall.

' Alright, I got the - What are you doing, Padfoot?'

' Remus had snow in his hair.'

James raised his eyebrows, ' Course he did.'

There was something far too knowledgeable in the tone of his voice.

Remus blinked. Sirius coughed.

' Ehm. Right. Bit early for the drink, isn't it Prongs?' he said, gesturing at James' cradled arms.

' Hah. It isn't drink, Pads,' laughed James, flittering onto the new subject thankfully quickly. ' Don't know how pissed you'd get on ink.'

' Fairly intoxicated, I should think,' Remus mused, belatedly running a hand through his hair to shake out the melted droplets of snow. ' Or possibly just ink poisoned.'

' Same difference,' Sirius insisted. ' Now, Doe-eyes. Would you care to explain why - exactly - we need a cupboard's worth of ink?'

' The Map.'

' Urgh!' Sirius groaned, throwing himself dramatically onto the nearest bed.

' What?' James said, disapprovingly.

' It's Christmas Day!'

' Well done.'

' Can't we go a sodding day without mentioning this thing?'

' Not if we want to get it done.'

' We can take one day off!'

' Actually, he's sort of right,' Remus chipped in, a little apologetically. ' We haven't even started drafting the plans, or checking the spells work together.'

' Thank you, Remus.'

' It's Christmas fucking Day!' Sirius shouted.

' Exactly!' James shouted back.

' Of course,' Remus said.

' What?'

' Think about it, Padfoot! Half the school,' James said, illustrating by making a circle with his hands, ' Aren't here. And the other half,' he pulled the circle apart, moving one hand away from the other. Then, apparently for emphasis, repeated the motion. ' The other half, my dense canine friend, will be entering the Great Hall for the Christmas Feast in about fifteen minutes, leaving -'

' - the upstairs deserted,' Sirius caught on, finally.

' Yes,' James reiterated, like he was talking to a six-year-old. ' Yes it is. And Peter is already up there, scouting it out.'

With Sirius pacified, they headed up to meet him. They had barely reached the seventh floor when Wormtail-the-rat came scuttling along the corridor.

He spotted them, made a b-line and transformed mid-step which resulted in a very bizarre half-boy half-rat rolly-polly and ended with a winded Peter heaped by James' feet. He wheezed some unintelligible garble of words and gasps before launching into a fit of coughing.

' What was that?' James asked jovially.

Peter repeated the splutter of attempted syllables, adding in a few hurried pointing gestures back up the corridor.

' Someone's there? Who?'

Remus thought they might as well have been talking to Wormtail-the-rat for all the good Wormtail-the-winded-boy was doing them. He opened his mouth to attempt third time to speak, but was cut off by Sirius.

' Knox?'

Remus turned to look in the same direction and, amazingly, it was.

Their ex-professor looked very strange without the plain black faculty robes. She was sporting a muggle dress - A-line and made of dark denim that looked like it had been attacked by a bottle of bleach - and, to Sirius' delight Remus was sure, mid-calf length Doc's.

She stood, as she often had as a teacher, leaning on the inside of a door arch, her hand on her hip. Her blonde hair was tied back in the same scruffy knot and she had that familiar look of undisguised amusement on her pretty young face.

' Not interrupting any major plotting am I, fellas?'

' No,' Peter practically shouted, looking extremely panicked, while James tried to casually say, ' Of course not.'

' Just some mild scheming,' Remus smiled.

' What are you doing here?' Sirius asked, ignoring the preamble.

' Not glad to see me?' she pouted. ' I'm offended. I do pop back in every so often, y'know. Catch up with the girls.'

' The girls?'

' McGonagall,' she conceded, with only a slight grimace. ' So my social life could do with a spruce. Kill me.'

She shrugged, and moved on.

Remus didn't point out that she came from the direction of Dumbledore's office, or that McGonagall's was six floors down.

' What're you lot doing up here, then? Not like you,' she nodded at Sirius, ' to miss feeding time. Can't be that important can it?'

' It's not,' Sirius told her, folding his arms petulantly across his chest. ' But I was out-voted, apparently.'

' Ah, democracy, you cruel and unpredictable maiden.'

' You're really strange,' Peter mumbled, not looking up from the floor.

It was only when James and Remus laughed, that Pete realised he had spoken out loud. He spluttered for a minute at the smirking woman before Sirius put him out of his misery.

' Nice recovery, Wormtail.'

' Well then,' Knox said, clapping her hands for no reason. ' Shall we?'

' Ladies first,' James said in his mock regal voice, bowing dramatically.

' How ever does Miss Evans resist such charm?'

' I'll tell you when I've figured it out,' he muttered darkly.

Knox smiled back at Remus, who shook his head slightly. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Sirius mouthing something like _Not a chance._

' I'm sure it's only a matter of time,' She smirked at Sirius, then flicked her gaze to Remus and back before adding, ' It always is.'

She headed away in the direction of the staircases, closely followed by a very embarrassed looking Peter and a bitter, almost resentful James.

Remus waited until they were safely out of earshot before turning to Sirius.

' I'm starting to think we aren't nearly as subtle as we like to think.'

**Hey, hey, Update ahoy! And I didn't actually realise, but we're over 30 chapters now. Wow.**

**Hmm, I fear our pups are being a wee bit obvious.**

**Snogging, as promised. It was difficult fitting so many elements into one chapter, so let me know what you think, please. **

**Also, big thank you to everyone that added this to alerts and favs. There were a lot of you, and I can't remember you all, sorry, but Thanks all the same!**

**Anyway, as I am doped up on medication at the moment, that is all.**

**Thanks for reading, reviews make me feel less nauseous. Danke Schoen!**


	32. Friendly Advice, or Something Similar

**Friendly Advice, or Something Similar**

James Potter could do anything.

Or, that's what he had always been told, at least.

His dad had always said that. Ever since he was little.

' _If you want something enough, you can do anything you need to get it. You, my boy, can have anything in the world.'_

And James always had.

When he was younger, he'd wanted to be the best wizard he could possibly be. World famous and powerful beyond belief. The next Dumbledore! So he'd practised and practised with whoever's wand he could get hold of. He'd long since given up on that childish dream - almost - but he liked to think he was still well above average in his abilities.

When his Hogwarts letter finally arrived, James promised himself he was going to be the best in all his classes, and be the most popular kid in the school - someone they'd never forget - and have all the friends he could want. And he'd gotten most of that right. Even if he wasn't top of every class, he was in the top three. And even if he didn't have all the friends in the world, he had the best friends he could ever ask for. He was pretty sure the school wouldn't forget him any time soon, either.

When he had decided to find a way to help Moony every month, they had. They had sat down, the three of them, and looked through books and books of useless prejudicial lies masquerading as fact until they'd had a brainwave. That wasn't it, of course. The hard work started later - searching for information on the animagus transformation without detection from the teachers or help from Remus. But they had done it.

He had done it ever time.

The one thing he seemed incapable of doing was securing the wonderful Lily Evans' heart. He'd been trying for over a year now, almost constantly, but to no avail.

It was starting to look hopeless, even to him.

Currently, James was laying spread-eagled on his four poster bed, feeling very sorry for himself.

He was shivering, even though the room was quite warm. Probably something to do with the fact that he was still sporting his soaked quidditch robes - fresh from the mornings match against Ravenclaw.

They had won, naturally, and he had taken the opportunity to ask his fiery beauty to go out with him yet again in the celebration party. She had rejected him one again, loudly and disdainfully in front of everyone. He didn't mind so much, he'd prove them all wrong one of these days.

At least, he hoped so. It wasn't looking good at the moment.

He ached something awful. Every muscle hurt, again probably something to do with the shivering. His normally untameable hair was wet enough to be flattened to his skull for once, strands of it stuck to the clammy skin on his face.

Annoyingly, the bright afternoon sun - _It would be bloody sunny now, of course_ - was streaming through the window right onto him. Rather than move, which would have taken effort he didn't think he had, James simply closed his eyes to block it out.

As he was engulfed in strange red darkness behind his eyelids, he let his mind wander.

Maybe, he thought, if he tried really hard, he could persuade the ground to swallow him whole.

Then again, he'd never be able to so much as look at Lily again if he were underground. Would he?

If the ground swallowed you up, did you die and go to Heaven, or did you just sort of sit there, being walked over for the rest of eternity?

That was, of course, assuming that there was a Heaven - like James' great Aunt Izzy professed. And if there was, did that mean there was a Hell, too. Why would he be sent there? Isn't it meant to be below ground?

It wasn't until the door creaked slightly that James realised he didn't know how long he'd been there. He could still hear the cheering of the party-goers downstairs, so it couldn't be too late.

Over the top of the commotion, he could hear feet padding across the carpet, and then a familiar weight sank into the mattress by his feet.

' Watching your roommates sleep could be considered creepy, you know,' James said, without opening his eyes. ' Anyone might think you have unsavoury intentions.'

Sirius barked a laugh. ' Not for you, mate.'

' No, I suppose not,' James said, too tired to keep the sarcasm from his voice. It was getting daft now, this denial. ' Just as well, too. I'm sure Miss Evans wants me untouched by human hands.'

Sirius laughed again. ' The only thing the Lovely Miss Evans wants right now is to beat you senseless with her human hands.'

' Nah, she uses books and sticks and… y'know…'

' Magic?'

' Yeah, that! And… Hang on, did you just call her lovely?'

' Might have. Don't recall.'

' You think she's lovely?'

' Don't recall,' he repeated. ' You don't talk about her nearly often enough. She the sexy brunette with glasses?'

' That'd be me,' James almost smiled

' Of course it would,' Sirius patted James' foot patronisingly. ' Pretty blonde?'

' No. And if Pete hears you're tying to set me up with his girl, we'll both be in trouble.'

Sirius grunted his indignation and laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea at the same time, and ended up making a stupid and feeble little snort that made James' mouth twitch again. Curse that Black and his ability to cheer James up without even trying.

' Okay then,' Sirius continued, thoughtfully. James could imagine the look of mock-concentration on his face. ' Ah. I know! Redhead. Freckly tits.'

James' eyes snapped open at the sudden mental image, ' Freckly…'

' Oh, don't go there,' Sirius said, snapping his fingers so close to James face that he felt the air on his nose. ' It's an overrated image.'

' Maybe for you, you queer!'

' Hmm,' came the reply. It was a decidedly noncommittal noise.

James decided to press his advantage, ' Not even bothering to be offended now?'

' You're argument,' Sirius said, slowly. ' is that I don't fancy Evans, so I must be a fairy?'

' Yeah,' James shrugged. ' And, y'know, all the staring. Into space. That is always miraculously occupied by a certain person. By the name of -'

' Alright!' Sirius had the decency to flush a little. ' Point taken.'

Sirius hesitated. James just looked at him. He tried to make sure it said _in your own time_ and _I'm not leaving without a confession_ all at the same time.

' I… err…' Sirius started, then stopped. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and dropped his gaze, staring instead at the mattress. James heard him swallow hard, then Sirius looked back up and said steadily, ' Yeah, no freckly tits for me.'

There was a definite note of challenge in his tone, and James supposed it was understandable given his family, so he shrugged his acceptance. He wasn't sure if it was needed or not, but it felt right.

' At all,' James had to ask, ' or just while you and Moony are shagging?'

' Fuck off,' Sirius replied, without meaning. Then he added, quietly, ' It's not like that.'

James tried not to gape, or to giggle. The result was something of a manic grin.

' You great, sodding virgin. I knew it!'

' Fuck off,' Sirius said again, more vehemently. ' Not like you're getting any, either.'

' I already told you -'

' Will you please shut up about Lily fucking Evans!'

' Make me,' James suggested.

Sirius accepted the challenge with a battle-cry and a lunge forward. They proceeded to wrestle across the dorm, occasional insults thrown between punches.

' Inbreed,' James said, shoving blindly in Sirius' general direction.

' Nonce,' Sirius shouted as he tumbled off the bed.

' Fairy,' James called, jumping down on top of his best friends head.

' Leaf-licker,' Sirius rolled away and kicked back randomly.

' Cock sucker,' James looked extremely smug for the whole of two seconds before Sirius stray foot connected with his neck and toppled him backwards.

' Bit below the belt there, mate,' Sirius muttered, regaining some semblance of balance.

' That'd be the general idea, I should think,' James replied, grinning. ' Not that I'm the expert.'

Considering the battle won, he made the mistake of turning his back. Sirius pounced, tackling James hard and sending them both tumbling to the floor once again. After a moment of pure dazed blinking, James found himself the worse off of the pair - pinned down by the weight of his smirking best mate. He struggled pointlessly, mostly for show.

' You better not be getting off on this.'

Sirius snorted. ' Already been over this. You aren't my type.'

' But bookworm werewolf is?'

' Evidently.'

' Get off me then, you son of a bitch,' James shoved one more time, before conceding, ' You win.'

Sirius stood up, stretched, then offered James a hand. ' I can't fight a man that insults my mother.'

' I know,' James grinned, finally casting a quick drying spell on himself. ' Let's eat, I'm starving.'

' Moping'll do that to you,' Sirius informed him, wisely.

' You'd know, I suppose,' clapping him on the back as they headed for the door.

His fingers landed on something raised, ridges just noticeable under the thin fabric of his shirt. James realised something.

' You haven't told him have you?' Sirius looked like he wasn't going to answer, so James clarified. ' About the scratches.'

He still didn't answer, but the guilty look was enough of a confirmation.

' You should tell him, y'know.'

' Yeah. And you should back off a bit with Evans. I think she'd actually like you if you stopped being a creepy stalker.'

' Maybe I will.'

' If you can, I can.

' I'll hold you to that,' James promised. ' Now, come! Dinner awaits!'

**Hey, hey! Finally, **_**The talk.**_

**I love writing these two together, so much fun to be had. I rather think they are hopeless cases - useless with their own relationships but great with advice for each other. **

**And, while you're here, a few questions I have for you;**

**1) How far do you want this to go graphically? Are we all eagerly awaiting some explicit scenes, or are we happy with how it is? Or some where inbetween? **

**2) This story was always intended to finish at the end of seventh year. It still is. But, I've been thinking about continuing into the post-graduation years. It'd be more angst, most likely, just because of the war themes. Would you be interested in a sequel?**

**I really appreciate your feedback, so please let me know what you think. **

**As usual, thank you for reading, please review and Danke Schoen.**


	33. Nonsensical Nonsense

_**Big thank you to Justtmeee, , Booksmartblonde333, and Chyna - who, incidentally, takes the crown for longest review after that ESSAY! Thank you! - who answered my questions. **_

_**So far, I am on ONE for all out smut, ONE for no smut at all and TWO for however I want to play it out.**_

_**So, You four can ignore this; everyone else, **__**here they are again. **_

_**1) How far do you want this to go graphically? Are we all eagerly awaiting some explicit scenes, or are we happy with how it is? Or some where inbetween? **_

_**2) This story was always intended to finish at the end of seventh year. It still is. But, I've been thinking about continuing into the post-graduation years. It'd be more angst, most likely, just because of the war themes. Would you be interested in a sequel?**_

_**Please, if you have a minute. Your opinion is important to me and I would very much like to know what you think.**_

_**Thank you. And sorry for putting this at the top. On with the chapter!**_

**Nonsensical Nonsense**

' Okay, Good. Now try this one.'

Remus pointed to a new series of symbols, each more complicated than the last. Peter sighed. He'd only taken Runes as a NEWT because he was passable in it. He'd actually gotten an E in his OWL. Plus, it was nice to have a class absent James and Sirius. Much as Peter loved them and their antics, sometimes he just wanted a bit of peace and quiet.

Truth was, he liked Runes. They were easy to lose yourself in, concentrating on the lines and patterns and the meaning of it all, piecing it together into coherency. It was all so simple when you blocked the rest of the world out.

And that was Peter's problem. Today he just could not hold that level of concentration.

They were in the library, which was awfully noisy for a library. Admittedly, it was quieter than the common room, but it was still much too noisy for so-called sanctuary. It was getting busier now that Christmas had been and gone, everyone panicking about the fast approaching exams.

Peter felt a little annoyed that he was suffering because of all these people and their incessant cramming, when he had been in the library like clockwork every Monday, Wednesday and Friday since October. It was so ridiculously unfair.

' Have you ever noticed,' Sirius said, suddenly, ' that the word _whelmed _means the same thing as the word _overwhelmed_?'

Peter resisted the urge to tut, mostly because Sirius had managed to stay silent for a whole twenty minutes before he'd started sprouting rubbish.

' Yes,' Remus said with all the patience of a nursery school teacher. ' Yes, I have. Peter?'

' No, not really,' Peter replied, without thinking.

Remus gave him that same patient smile and tapped the book on the desk between them. ' I meant the runes.'

' Oh! Right,' Peter felt himself turning blotchy, supremely embarrassed. ' Sorry.'

' What _do_ you recognise? Take them one at a time.'

' Well,' Peter started, hating how suddenly uncertain he was. ' I know the Hydra is _nine_.'

' It is, yes,' Moony nodded encouragingly.

' And,' Peter felt bolstered by his success. ' This one is _fork.'_

' Almost. See this little flick at the end. It makes it a verb instead of a noun.'

' So, _forked_?'

' Exactly. Now this symbol here,' Remus pointed to the next in the sequence.

' Oh, that's-'

' Why is it,' Sirius interrupted again, waving his finger importantly, ' that things only ever vanish into thin air? Why not _thick_ air?'

Peter couldn't hold his annoyed clucking back a second time, but it was mercifully drowned out by Remus' irritated sigh.

' That is a Muggle expression Sirius. You are a wizard. You know as well as I do that objects never vanish, in _any_ air. They're either made invisible, or displaced to another location. They don't disappear at all.'

' Even I know that,' Peter felt the need to put in.

' Well done,' Sirius said, words dripping with condescension. ' You can remember the laws of transfiguration but not one pissing rune meaning.'

' Like you know it,' Peter retorted. It was a habitual response, overriding the fact that Sirius was a fucking encyclopaedia of shite, useless and otherwise and that, even though he hadn't studied runes of any sort since he was a kid, he probably still knew the answer.

' I happen to know,' Sirius replied, with a mixture of cold disdain and haughty satisfaction. ' That that particular rune goes by the name of Eihwaz.'

' Wrong!' Peter cried, triumphant. ' _Nine forked partnership_? I know you've got a reputation for getting about, but I didn't think you were that bad.'

' Err…' Remus interjected, a look of guilty amusement on his face. ' _Parntership_ is Ehwaz - E-H. This rune here is Eihwaz - E-I-H.'

' Bugger. _Defence._'

_Nine forked _Defence did make more sense. Peter deflated at once, sinking as low as possible in his chair and bracing himself for the onslaught of abuse he would no doubt receive. He'd only wanted to get one over on Sirius once. _Once_. Was that too much to ask? Evidently, yes.

That was another ridiculously unfair fact of life at Hogwarts.

Sirius - and James, too - were always better than you at everything. Even though they never did any work. They were just… Brilliant. And, sometimes, Peter hated them for it. Why did he have to try so hard for what came so naturally to them?

It was a moment before Peter realised Sirius hadn't said anything. Nothing at all - no gloating, or mocking or anything. When Peter checked, Sirius actually looked supremely concerned.

He almost pouted when he turned to Remus and asked, worriedly, ' I haven't got a reputation, have I?'

' You have,' Remus confirmed, patting Sirius on the shoulder comfortingly. ' Just a bit. But then, you did go round for three months in fourth year telling everyone who'd listen _exactly _what that prefect found you doing behind the greenhouses.'

' Jorkins? Ditsy cow, couldn't even remember herself after two minutes.'

' I heard she got an apprenticeship at the Ministry. God help them if she's doing the paperwork.'

Sirius snorted, placated by Moony's distraction, forgetting even to insult Peter, and fell silent. He was staring off at James, who was once again peering through the heavy, leather-bound copies of _Goblin Liaisons; International Protocol_ and _Giants Do Not Make Good Pets; An Autobiography of the Late Gerald Jigginsborough. _

Peter managed to translate the whole next sentence before Sirius made another sound.

' Hey, Rem?'

' That isn't my name, thank you very much.'

' Alright, alright. _Remus._'

' Yes, Padfoot?'

' Do you think, hypothetically, that an animagus could change sex?'

Remus' eyes flickered over to where James was leaning through the bookshelves, half-heartedly nodding along to the conversation he clearly wasn't following.

' Hypothetically?' he asked, smiling slightly for no reason.

' Hypothetically,' Sirius confirmed. They shared a moment - secret, silent comunication that Peter felt distinctly left out of. Then Sirius continued, louder, ' I mean, if the human counterpart became effeminate enough…?' He trailed off thoughtfully for a minute. ' What do you think, Jamie?'

' Oh, err- Yeah, I…' He stopped, pulling his head back through the bookcase. His brain finally caught up with the conversation, and he sighed, resigned. ' This is a dig at me, isn't it?'

Peter shrugged, more out of habit than anything else, even though James wasn't looking at him.

' No, no,' Sirius said, soothingly. ' Don't be daft. We're talking _hypothetically._ This Hypothetical animagus with hypothetical gender issues stemming from his hypothetical crush an a ginger.'

' Hypothetical ginger,' Remus added, quietly, fighting down a smile and managing to make himself look very grave.

' Of course, Moony. Hypothetical ginger.'

James did a funny scowling-pout thing with his mouth, and made to punch Sirius. Peter suspected he might _accidentally_ hit him a bit too hard.

' Now, now, Prongsie. Calm down,' Sirius said, dodging behind the large mahogany shelving on the International Affairs section. ' It's nothing personal!'

There was a pause, in which both of them stopped, trying to guess which end of the barrier the other would emerge from. Sirius apparently bored of the strategy pretty quickly.

' Nowt personal,' he repeated. Peter thought there was a particular note of glee in he voice. ' Even if you _do_ make a better Doe than a Stag.'

James lunged for the end of the shelf, Sirius bolting to the other end and circling. He was emphasising his accusations by resting his chin on his linked fingers and making a complete show of fluttering his eyelashes.

It did make him look remarkably feminine, and Peter blinked in surprise. Remus had a funny look on his face, too, for a moment, then he suppressed it again.

' Just know, Prongs, we all support you fully in you time of need.'

' Fuck off, you arse-sniffing mutt!'

' It's okay, let it out. Don't bottle up your emotions!'

' I'll bottle your balls, you don't shut it!'

' And, you know, you won't even have to change your name. Jamie is _unisex_!'

' If your bring up Elvendork, so help me, I will fucking kill you and make a rug out of your skin.'

' Like to see you try.'

' It'll look great, don't you think, right over the fire in my Dad's study? Need a good wash, first, mind.'

Sirius finally caved in and grabbed the nearest book, lobbing it around the corner at roughly James' position. As if by magic - and when Peter thought about it, it very well _could_ be - the librarian was suddenly looming over them.

' Defiling my books!' Pince shrieked, flapping her arms. ' Out! Out of my library! Book slinging hooligans! I won't have it, out!'

' I'll see them out, Madam,' Remus said, smiling his polite prefect smile.

Fight forgotten, James and Sirius exited the library together, cursing the vulture-like librarian. Remus and Peter packed away their things, then followed.

They reached the corridor just in time to see the hunched, greasy figure of a boy in the wrong place at the wrong time turning the corner.

' Oi! Snivelly,' James shouted, his idea of fair warning, before flicking his wand casually down the hall.

The spell hit the scrawny, slimy boy square in the back, right between the shoulder blades, knocking his forward with all the force of a kicking pony. Peter would know - his gran owned a farm up in Yorkshire, including a little white mare that really rather disliked him.

Snape hit the floor hard, and Peter didn't feel anything for him. Except maybe the jolt of pleasure at seeing someone else suffer too.

Unfortunatley, though, he didn't even get a chance to laugh before they were interrupted by a slight cough.

' Now, now, then. I saw that, Mr Potter.'

Peter saw the distinctive silhouette of Slughorn standing in the doorway at the end of the corridor. Great.

' Attacked!' Snape cried, scrambling to his feet. ' They attacked me, sir!'

' You've been warned quite enough about that sort of behaviour, I think, Potter. A weeks detentions are in order.' He stopped, noticing the rest of them for the first time, then he added , ' Yes, yes. For you all.'

He strode away, Snape trailing along behind him. No doubt for protection, Peter thought, a little maliciously.

' A week!' James shouted, once the potions master had disappeared from view. ' For that? That's just ridiculously unfair!'

And Peter had to concur. All in all, it'd been a ridiculously unfair day.

_**Well, this ended up being a lot longer that it was meant to be. Oh well. Just a nice, fun chapter for you. Once again, thank you for reading. Reviews make me smile, Danke schoen. (Oh, and Happy Easter, everyone! Don't get too fat on chocolate… Who am I kidding? I will be!)**_


	34. Superiority Complex

**Superiority Complex**

The kitchens were one of the more frequented marauder haunts. If they weren't in the common room in their free time, or the dormitories, and no pranks were planned, it was a near guarantee that one of the four would be found tickling the pear in the dungeons.

That phrase - _Tickling the Pear_ - had recently become one of Sirius' favourite euphemisms, and it almost annoyed Remus that he nearly laughed just acknowledging that fact in his head.

Today a good three quarters of the Maraudering resident of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry were indulging in the delights of the kitchens. At least, Sirius was. Remus was watching, and waving away masses of house elves with their huge pleading eyes and disturbing need to serve.

On the other side of the table - the double of the one they sat at each mealtime in the Great Hall - was James. He was slumped down so far he was almost bent double, his head buried in his hands. The absolute epitome of dejection. It was more than a little pathetic.

Not that Remus would ever say that to him.

' Could you look any more pathetic, mate?' Sirius said, as if on cue, between his mouthfuls of apple pie.

Remus aimed a kick at him under the table. James only groaned a pained little groan and burried his face further into the creases of his fingers..

' Ow! What was that for, you twat,' Sirius cried, making a show of pulling his leg out from under the bench just to rub gingerly at the air several centimetres above it. ' I'm being supportive.'

' I'd hate to see you being neglectful.'

Sirius shrugged. ' I'm trying.'

' Please stop,' James groaned.

' Fine. The house-elves are better company, anyway,' Sirius said with great dignity, considering his food-filled hamster-cheeks. ' And they have pie.'

' I'll give you pie,' Remus implored. ' I'll cook it myself. Just, please, stop trying to help.'

' Why do you care so much?' Sirius retorted. ' S'not like this is the first Evans-induced depression our Prongs has suffered.'

' No,' Remus conceded. ' It isn't. It is, however, the first time it isn't a _rejection_-induced mope. And I owe it to Lily - who has suffered through years of torment and embarrassment - to make this bizarre policy change last more than a single day.'

' Yeah. And you owe it to me - who has suffered countless Prongsie temper tantrums - not to keep a suicide watch all night.'

' I'm not going to throw myself off the astronomy tower,' James insisted, lifting his head just enough to give Sirius an accusing look. ' It's your fault, anyway.'

' A suggestion,' Sirius said, folding his arms across his chest petulantly. ' Didn't have to follow it.'

Remus tried not to sound too surprised when he said, ' But it was a good suggestion.'

' Bet you didn't take my advice though,' James accused, quietly.

' I said I would,' Sirius huffed. ' If you could do this. It isn't looking good, right now.'

For the briefest of moments, Remus felt like he was missing something

' How am I meant to not talk to her!' James threw his hands up frantically, then let the slap back down onto the wood. ' She's brilliant! Absolutely fucking fantastic!'

Remus sensed the coming speech, and zoned out in his own careful way. He smiled, deliberately looking directly at James as he talked, but taking in only odd words.

' … even more beautiful than her namesake…'

Remus ran through his mental checklist of assignments, due in before the next full moon. His runes was done, and handed in, as was his DADA.

' … Strong… Independent… Wonderful…'

They were meant to be doing their trasfig tomorrow in their free period, all four of them, and Remus' potions essay was done but for a detail he wanted to check with Sirius if he could get him to concentrate for long enough.

' … Cupid's arrow, struck right in my firm, manly and very impressive pectorals…'

Remus watched Sirius scrape the remaining custard from the rim of his dish, which was immediately removed by a grey little elf with beady little eyes. Sirius hadn't even swallowed before a fresh dish was placed in front of him, complete with another quarter of a pie and a healthy dollop of thick yellow custard.

' It's destiny!' James cried, finally, throwing his hand up importantly again. ' One day I'll have her!'

' That's just it, Prongs. You Haven't _had_ her,' Sirius licked his spoon particularly lewdly. Remus knew it was all for show, because Sirius' table manners were impeccable when he stopped thinking about deliberately making a mockery of it. ' Or anyone else, for that matter. While you're pining your life away fawning after Evans, there are hundreds of girls in this school that would be glad to take you off her freckly, uninterested hands.'

' Did you miss the bit about cupid?'

' Did you ever stop to think, Prongs,' Remus said, slowly, cautiously. ' Maybe - just _maybe_ - Cupid made a mistake?'

' Cupid doesn't make mistakes!' James declared, with another hand-wave of conviction.

Remus bit his tongue, not really wanting to have to explain to the two purebloods who Shakespeare was. Or playwrights. Or Plays. Or theatres.

' They do say love is blind,' Sirius said contemplatively. ' Maybe that's the problem. Maybe cupid is a bit short-sighted.'

' So, what you're suggesting,' Remus asked, genuinely fearing the answer. ' is that on top of being a midget condemned to an eternity in nappies with tiny little fluffy bird wings and a quiver of love heart shaped arrows, Cupid also had a sight deficiency?'

' Yes,' Sirius said, happily. ' Poor little fairy.'

' Couldn't be more of a fairy than you,' James muttered loudly.

' I wouldn't be so judgemental, if I were you, Prongs. Remember which of us is in a relationship?'

' That doesn't count!'

' Err… Why?'

' You were so bad at wooing the girls you resorted to shagging your roommate!'

' I think we've found your problem, mate.' Sirius frowned, dropping his spoon into his dish. It clattered loudly in the moments silence that followed before he spoke again. ' You're an utter arsehole.'

' And,' Remus added, menially, ' Nobody says _wooing_ anymore. Sorry.'

' Get fucked.'

James banged his head on the table with a _clunk_, then fell silent.

' We just might,' Sirius said waspishly. ' Because we can. Whenever. We. Like.'

Sirius got up, and made for the exit, tugging Remus with him as he went.

' You know he didn't mean it,' Remus said, pulling back a step.

Sirius sighed. ' I know. Doesn't mean he isn't a twat.'

' No,' Remus agreed. ' He is you're best mate though. And, we have a detention to get to.'

Sirius sighed again, but strode back into the kitchen and pulled James up off the bench. ' It'll be fine. There'll be other chances to burry her in chocolates and suffocate her with flowers. Next year. Next year, she won't know what hit her.'

' I suppose,' James mumbled, running his hand through his hair and ruffling it unnecessarily.

' Come on,' Sirius pressed. ' Can't keep Sluggers waiting again, can we?'

' Fucker. Killjoy. Giving out detentions on Valentines Day. Just 'cause nobody's going to get under that sorry excuse for a moustache.'

As they trudged down the dank corridor and mounted the stairs to the main entrance hall, someone called out to them. Well, to one of them.

' Potter!'

' Evans?'

' Heard you got detention again?'

James nodded, looking wary.

' What did you do this time? In fact, No, I don't want to know.'

' Right,' he replied, looking increasingly alarmed.

Remus glanced at Sirius, who only shrugged most unhelpfully. There was a silence. A silence it which Lily grew more and more flustered, hands flapping a bit by her sides and her freckle splattered cheeks growing a fairly fierce shade of pink. James' eyes only grew wider, staring hard and - Remus suspected - biting his tongue even harder.

One thing about James Potter - when he promised, he _really_ promised.

' Err…' he said, when she wasn't forthcoming with her usual curse, or argument, or list of his faults. ' Yeah. We have to get going, so…'

He turned his back to her, and made to lead the three of them up the staircase to McGonagall's office for their allocated detentions.

' Ahnk-Udor-Davil-Tyne,' she finally blurted out, all at once without a breath.

Remus almost asked her what language she was speaking - because he thought he'd distinctly heard traces of both Egyptian and old Saxon English, which was bizarre - but was beaten to the post by Sirius, who simply said, ' What?'

She didn't answer him, but looked solely at James. He blinked. She licked her lips.

' I, err, said… Thank you. For your Valentine. It was… nice.'

And with that she left, with not another word, leaving the Marauder's to explain why said James Potter couldn't stop grinning during their Potions Master's lecture on appropriate corridor conduct.

**Oh, Goodness, I cannot explain how abysmally sorry I am for the cavernous gap in updates. Hospital visits, deadlines, Internet issues and all that jazz. So sorry. Really, I am. Very. ( No worries, Chyna, I most certainly am not abandoning this fic. I don't blame you for getting impatient, though. Sorry, again, for the wait.)**

**On a separate note, ma-hoo-sive thank you to everyone who reviewed and answered my questions. Sorry I haven't been able to reply to everyone, like I said, internet trouble.**

**Just a quick update, I'm busy with all things associated with rapidly approaching deadlines, so we'll muggle through the next few weeks and then it's over, and I'll have all the free time in the world. Wahey! **

**Once again, thanks for reading, please review and danke schoen!**


	35. The Other Side of the Glass

**The Other Side of the Glass**

' You are so unbelievably good at complicating things, Lily. It's just weird.'

Lily spared a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as she peered down at her essay.

Dorcas had lost track of exactly which essay it was. Lily was as equally unbelievably messy as she was good at complicating things, scattering her books and quills and parchment all over her bed - it was the bed, in this instance, but it could just have easily been the floor or a table or the top of somebody's trunk.

And she always managed to work her way systematically through the academic explosion. _Organised Chaos_ she called it. Mary and Alice called it a nuisance. Dorcas called it bizarre. Whatever it was called, it was a skill Dorcas envied.

Mary, from the other side of the dorm, cast Dorcas a disapproving look - a mix between a pout and a scowl that Dorcas was used to enough to ignore. She had been on the receiving end of that look so much, she knew exactly what it meant.

Mary wanted her to apologise.

Dorcas was going to do no such thing. She hadn't done anything wrong, merely stated a fact.

Lily Evans _was_ weird.

It had taken five and a half years to come to that conclusion, but it had come in the end. So what if Dorcas wasn't the brightest _lumos _in the class?

Most people would have found it offensive, probably - or at least a tad rude - calling someone weird. Dorcas never believed in falsities, though.

She supposed most people would say that, when asked. Nobody admits that they like lying - which she also supposed was probably, in most cases, a lie to begin with.

But Dorcas properly hated falsities. Little white lies, false implications, misleading suggestions, downright fibs. The job lot.

The philosophy of Dorcas Meadows was simple - _If it's alright to think, it's alright to say._

It wasn't an ideal philosophy, by most standards, she'd happily admit. But it was the only one she'd ever thoroughly believed in.

It had lost her an awful lot of friendships over the years. Her best friend at Muggle school when she was a girl hadn't taken too kindly to being informed that her trendy new haircut made her look like a boy. Her great aunt Frideswide hadn't visited Dorcas' mother for eight years now because she had once asked if her dress was flattering. Dorcas had given an honest answer. Her mother had laughed, her father had snorted his scotch up his nose and sprayed in cheerfully across the parlour, and auntie Frideswide hadn't been seen within a four mile radius of the house since.

On occasion, when she had offended and alienated her latest acquaintance and she was alone again, Dorcas had wondered if it would be easier to conform, to fib and flatter and outright lie to people for the sake of company. It never lasted long, though.

The way she figured, if they couldn't handle her personality, they weren't worth the effort. If she had to hold her tongue, hide her opinion, then she wasn't being herself and the whole relationship would be false. She'd prefer loneliness and honesty.

_Does my bum look big in this? _Well, yeah, actually. Massive. But, then, it usually does.

_Was I out of order shouting at him for that? _Yes, it was as much your fault as his, not stop being a daft bint and apologise.

_Is this gift a good idea? _No, she'll hate it and you know she will.

_Are you okay? _No, I'm not. And you don't really care. Thanks for asking, though. Now kindly fuck off.

_Is Purple my colour?_ Absolutely not, you look like a plum. Or that girl with the gum from Willy Wonka.

_Why can't I get this spell to work?_ Because you're wrist movement is shit. Always has been.

And, most notably, _What do I do if I think I might fancy somebody? _Well certainly not keep arguing with him constantly, telling him he's a toe-rag and a show-of.

In the dorm, Lily finally finished performing her scratchy rhythmic and totally tuneless lament of quill and parchment with a symphonic outro of the whispering of paper being rolled into a neat little scroll. She sighed and stretched her back.

'Done?' Mary asked, in a tone of voice that clearly said _Finished being a swot? Ready to have some fun?_

If Lily noticed, she didn't let it show.

' Nearly. I need to nip to the library before it closes.'

Mary gave a world weary sigh, but dragged herself from her bed regardless.

' Fine. But I'm coming with you. Last time you went on your own you were wittering away to old Vulture Neck.'

' I was only asking Pince to help me find the right section.'

' You were gone for three hours.'

' It was a very obscure section,' Lily said, grinning across at Dorcas.

Sometimes Dorcas was certain that Lily was more like her than she pretended to be. She was a bit of a tomboy too, sometimes. And Dorcas was sure Mary annoyed Lily just as much as she did herself. And, best of all, Lily loved to laugh. Lily could cover it better though.

' Coming, Cassie?' She asked, tying her auburn hair into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck.

' Aye, I suppose. Better than staying on my lonesome.'

Dorcas had spent enough time on her own in first year. She had just about given up on finding any close friends. In her first twelve months at Hogwarts people had mostly avoided her. She was 'that nasty girl, who's always on her own', or 'the miserable weirdo over there'.

Then, on the second day of the second year, she had met Lily Evans.

Dorcas supposed Lily had always been weird, but in a different way. She was the Gryffindor who was best mates with a Slytherin, but didn't get judged for it. It was like she was so obviously a Gryffindor at heart - brave, even in her friendships - that it would've been wrong to ostracise her for it.

Dorcas had been walking slowly back up to the castle after an evening herbology lesson on nocturnal plants. She had had the stray heart-shaped petals of a moonflower in her hair, and stank of honey and vanilla from the Phlox and had been partnered with Bertram Aubery - who was as much a slacker as he was a sadist - and she had been generally in a bad mood.

Lily and her slimy little boyfriend had been giggling just ahead of her, whispering and laughing all the way from the greenhouses to the entrance hall. It was only after he sloped of to the dungeons that Lily noticed Dorcas mounting the stairs just behind her.

' You're that girl nobody likes,' she had said, smooth as you like.

Dorcas had been stunned. Not because of the comment - she already knew that - but that someone else could be so forward and honest. It was wonderful, and she hadn't been able to stop the grin.

' You're that girl with the boyfriend nobody likes.'

' I also go by Lily. Nice to meet you.'

And that had been that. Lily had a fiery streak in her that suited Dorcas to a tee. She also inherited the acquaintance of Mary and Alice, complete with their disdainful looks and not-so-subtle exchanged glances, but it was an improvement. And Dorcas would be forever thankful that she hadn't had to go through another six years in her little honest world of isolation.

But… sometimes, it just wasn't enough.

The thought came, as it usually did, in the common room. Even in passing, the four boys in the centre of the room caught her eye. They were in the spot nearest the fire, as always, and were sprawled across two separate sofas, an armchair and the rug.

They were bickering. No, goading.

Remus was sat on the floor, back resting on the main settee, open book resting on . Sirius was sprawled out behind him, poking his neck and shoulder repeatedly without even turning his head to look. James was on the second sofa, laid out on his belly and half hanging over the edge so he could lean closer to the prefect on the rug. Pete was snuggled in the armchair, watching with a mixture of amusement and relief. Bless him.

Dorcas caught Lily spare them a glance, too, before she proceeded across the room. As they got nearer, she could pick out words.

' - wouldn't be the same -'

' - have to - marauderly duty -'

' - if Peter can -'

A few steps and broken words became full sentences.

' Come on, Moony! We can't go without you,' James was insisting. ' It'd be fundamentally wrong. We'd be missing a leg on our Grand Throne of Marauding!'

Remus snorted. ' I hadn't realised we had slipped into such a wonderful world of metaphor.'

' He's been into those muggle novels again,' Peter supplied.

' And, anyway,' Remus added, ' I think Grand Throne might be overselling it. We're more of an old stool.'

' An old favourite, treasured forever?' James suggested.

' Well loved and well worn,' Remus confirmed.

' And,' Sirius put in, ' It'd wobble with only three of it's legs.'

' Exactly! The point still stands!' James cried, wafting his arms enthusiastically. ' Be it a throne of a stool, it's the metaphor than counts. And it still needs four legs!'

' So, what's the metaphor then?' Remus asked, at the same time that Sirius muttered, ' Metaphors don't need legs.'

' Well…' James faltered slightly, but powered through. ' We are the Grand Throne of -'

' Battered stool,' Sirius corrected.

' Fine, Battered - but well loved - Stool of Marauding and Mischief and Mayhem and… And -'

' Mediocrity?' Remus suggested.

' Meniality,' was Sirius' input.

' Magnificence!' James cried, desperately.

Dorcas could see little Peter mumbling under his breath, and imagined him trying desperately to think up more M words. But, gosh, he was cute doing it.

They all laughed, and Dorcas found herself grinning along with them, even though she wasn't following the conversation in the least.

Lily was a great friend, and Mary was tolerable in small doses. But sometimes Dorcas wished she had been a boy. How much she'd love to be allowed into that little group, all disruptive and bostrous and anti-authoritarian. Because Dorcas had grown up in a traditional pureblood household with a mostly absent father and a socialite mother and only two loud little brothers to keep her company.

That was friendship to her - noisy and rough and perfectly truthful. But it was an exclusive club, and she was most decidedly absent from the guest-list.

The boys by the fire suddenly erupted into cheers, Remus apparently having agreed to whatever they were badgering him for. Dorcas grinned again, absently.

She turned to the portrait hole, expecting to see a very stony faced Mary. What she saw instead was a soft smile on the freckled face of Little Miss Complicated herself.

Dorcas grinned wider still when Lily caught herself and blushed. She coughed, tucked her hair unnecessarily behind her ear, and turned back to the portrait hole.

Maybe, Dorcas thought, it wasn't so lonely on the outside.

And when the stony face of Mary McDonald made it's belated appearance, and demanded to know what had distracted their attention for so long, Dorcas felt no guilt in replying, ' Nothing unusual.'

It wasn't exactly a lie, after all.

**Hey, hey. Guess who has officially finished for the summer? Well, everyone at college level or above, really, but that includes little old me. So, update ahoy! It's a bir filler-ish, and for that I am sorry, but I desperately wanted to do a chapter outside of our favourite mischief-makers. **

**Now that I am relatively commitment free, I aim to be updating at least once a week, unless something comes up. Just to let you know.**

**Thanks for sticking with me during these update droughts! Ta very much for reading, reviews always make me smile and Danke Schoen!**


	36. Scary Things in the Mountains

**Scary Things in the Mountains**

Remus had always rather liked the outdoors. People, in general, tended to think of him as finicky and he supposed he could be, sometimes, about certain things - dirty socks, for example. But the outdoors was fresh and free and clean, and he felt more alive just being there.

Which was just as well, really, considering his position 400ft up the side of a mountainside. (_Not a mountainside_, the chirpy voice of Mrs Potter reminded him. It isn't a mountain unless it's 990ft from base to tip, and Castle Crag was measured at a meagre 951ft.)

It was the February half-term holiday, and somehow Remus and Pete had been roped into accompanying the Potter's and Sirius on their annual hiking trip.

_The Cumbrian mountains,_ James had said in his best seducing voice,_ Can you imagine, Moony? It's not like you've been before._

And he hadn't. But he did live in Crosshills, a little village somewhere in the no-mans-land between Lancashire and Yorkshire, and he knew very well what hills looked like.

He was wrong, naturally. The humble fields of Lancashire and the marshes of Yorkshire couldn't hold a candle to the pure scale of Cumbria.

They had been in the Lake District for the whole of 24 hours, and out in the open air for roughly twelve. It'd been a long day. Long and exhilarating and completely refreshing day.

He sometimes wondered if it was another wolf thing - his love of the fresh air, the pure rush of being outside and free, not trapped indoors, or in a body that wasn't entirely his, or in a society that both despised and feared him, or trapped in any other capacity - but he'd never conclusively researched it.

Some things he wanted to enjoy without that constant reminder.

Remus had relished in every stretched muscle, every stride.

Had he been asked the night before, when they were still warm and cosy in the Muggle inn down in the valley by the lake and James and Sirius had sprawled on the rug by the fire and whispered plots and plans quietly enough to avoid waking Mrs Potter - who was dozing on the sofa - but loudly enough to elicit an encouraging wink from Mr Potter, weather he would be alone in his enjoyment of a good days exercise, Remus would almost certainly have said yes - with the exception of Mr and Mrs Potter, who had orchestrated the whole trip and must, logically, have some prior experience with the concept.

He would have been proven incredibly and utterly wrong.

He should have known, really, that the unending energy Sirius and James poured into pranks and mischief at school would translate wonderfully into reserves perfectly suited to any prolonged outdoor activities.

They bounded up the ledges, jogged across the flats and positively leapt over the crags. It was a race for them, Remus realised as he watched them dash up a series of worn almost-steps in the hillside with huge grins on their faces.

As much as Remus was enjoying himself, he wasn't enthusiastic enough to run the whole way. But those two did, with all the glee of a toddler. Well, he thought, with the voice in his head sounding suspiciously like his father, at least they'll sleep tonight.

The only one who wasn't relishing in the exercise was Peter, who was trailing behind fairly substantially. Remus had walked with him for a bit, before they had stopped for lunch, but Wormtail had gradually drifted even further behind. Mr Potter was beside him now, offering a string of encouragement that the smallest of the boys was doing just fine and reassurances that they would be stopping soon to set up camp before it got too dark.

Mrs Potter was humming jovially away to his left somewhere, and Padfoot and Prongs were laughing and panting and goading one another up ahead.

It was wonderfully familial, and it made Remus think of his own mother. If he tried really hard, he could remember her singing to him, before he was bitten; before she distanced herself; before she went mad. Of course, he could just be imagining it, and not remembering at all.

' I think this will do,' she said, and Remus realised they had hit a fairly flat ledge in the hillside. There was a sharp incline to the left which would protect them from most of the wind, and a small copse of trees to the right which made the scene look a bit like a postcard.

' Good spot, my lovely,' Mr Potter called, as he and Peter crested the slope. ' James! Sirius! Come give an old man a hand with these tents, eh, lads?'

' Peter, dear,' Mrs Potter said as he huffed towards a suitable place to collapse and catch his breath, ' Could you gather some sticks for me, love? There's a good boy. Not too big, not too small and as dry as you can find.'

Remus helped, and they got back in plenty of time to sit back and laugh at Padfoot and Prongs' shambles of an attempt at erecting a tent the _Proper_ way. Mr and Mrs Potter - because Remus just wasn't comfortable calling them Arianne and Marcellus, despite their insistences - allowed the boys twenty minutes of indulgences in the ways of the Muggle, then fixed the heap of canva, poles and pegs into a two-man tent with a casual flick of their wands.

Mr Potter didn't let them try to build a fire the muggle way, though he refused them with a smirk that said he knew they could manage that just fine, and set it blazing with another swish of his wrist.

' How about a story? It isn't a real campfire without one,' Mrs Potter said, silently summoning a shrunk packets of flumps from her rucksack.

' Good idea,' Mr Potter agreed with an affectionate smile.

' Do we know any camp stories?' Mrs Potter asked, casting a quick _engorgio_ and then opening her newly huge bag of treats.

' Not any old story, Mum!'

' Nothing boring,' Sirius concurred.

' What constitutes boring, dear?' Mrs Potter asked mildly, smiling and handing each of them a handful of pink and white marshmallows.

' I dunno.'

' When my Uncle took me and my cousins camping in Anglesey, he told us ghost stories. He scared my cousin so much she couldn't sleep, and kept me up all night.'

' That is,' James started, thoughtfully, ' actually, a bloody brilliant idea.'

' Nice one, Pete,' Sirius agreed, giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder.

Peter beamed.

' Hmm,' Mr Potter mused, rubbing his chin in a mock-thoughtful gesture. ' Good idea. Good idea. What about the Story of the Warwickshire Werewol-'

' NO!'

Mr Potter blinked almost owlishly at James and Sirius, who both looked sufficiently abashed at their outburst, while Peter and Remus both burst into giggles. Overreaction much?

' It's just,' James started, a shade hesitantly, ' Werewolf stories are boring.'

' You liked them when you were little. Wouldn't sleep in your own room for days at a time, kept crawling into our bed…'

He trailed off thoughtfully, while everyone else - sans James, of course - chuckled mirthfully through their marshmallows.

' Well,' James said, giving them all a look that clearly said _moving on_, ' That was ages ago, Dad, and werewolves just aren't scary anymore.'

Mr Potter surveyed them all, as if waiting for a contradiction.

' Another flump, Remus?' Mrs Potter offered, smiling at him across the fire. There was twinkle in her eye that made Remus think, for just a moment, that maybe it wasn't just Mr Potter's intelligence James had inherited.

Mr Potter eyed them a moment longer but when they all nodded in agreement, even timid little Peter, he sighed and gave up. It didn't last long. They immediately started another argument.

' What about The Banshee in the Brecon Beacons?'

' Sorry, Mr P, but once you've done third year Defence, Banshees are just sort of funny.'

' Vampires in Venice?'

' Why do these things always rhyme?'

' Vampires aren't cool anymore, Dad.'

' Nah, if Old Sluggers has met one…'

' Well, why don't you tell me what you're scared of and we'll go from there?'

' Us?'

' Scared?'

' Never!'

Remus smiled. It was like listening to three of the same person, arguing with themselves. Maybe that's what the inside of Prongs' head sounded like. He didn't hear Mrs Potter approach until she crouched into his field of vision.

' What about,' she said, and immediately she had the attention of two interested boys and one sheepish looking man. ' What about a muggle story? Something different?'

She was granted a chorus of hums in the affirmative.

' Good, good. Come then, we'll do this good and proper. Gather round the fire, boys. And you,' she added with a positively cheeky glance at her husband.

When they were all settled, she placed herself at the metaphorical head of the table, between the fire and the biggest of the three tents, and cleared her throat.

'_There was a Lord of worthy fame, and a-hunting he would ride, Attended by a noble train of gentry by his side._'

' Oh, it rhymes.'

' Shut up, Wormtail.'

' Hey, Mum? Where did you learn a Muggle ghost story?'

' As hard as it may be to believe, James, I do spend rather a lot of time in our substantially stocked library. And it isn't strictly a Ghost Story,' she winked at Remus. ' More a Literary Horror.'

' What's the difference?' Sirius asked.

' It isn't necessarily about ghosts, is all,' Mr Potter supplied before Remus could.

' Now, if I might continue? Ahem. _And while he did in Chase remain, To see both sport and play, His Lady went as she did feign, Unto the church to pray._

' _This Lord he had a daughter dear, Whose beauty shone so bright, She was beloved both far and near, Of many a Lord and Knight._

' _Fair Isabella, Fair Ellen was she called, A creature fair was she. She was her father's only joy, As you shall after see._

' _Therefore, her cruel step-mother, Did envy her so much, That day by day she sought her life, Her malice it was such._

' _She bargained with the master cook, To take her life away, And taking of her daughter's book, She thus to did her say._

' "_Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praise, Go hasten presentile, and tell unto the master cook,_

' _These words that I tell thee._

' _And bid him dress to dinner straight, that fair and milk-white doe, That in the park doth shine so bright, There's none so fair to show."_

' _The Lady, fearing of no harm, Obeyed her mother's will, And presentile she hastened home, Her pleasure to fulfil._

' _She straight into the kitchen went, Her message for to tell, And there she spied the master cook, Who did with malice swell._

' "_Now, master cook, it must be so, Do that which I thee tell; You needs must dress the milk-white doe, Which you do know full well."_

' _Then straight his cruel bloody hands, He on the Lady lay'd, Who, quivering and shaking, stands, While this to her he said._

' "_Thou art the doe that I must dress; See here, behold my knife, for it is pointed presentile, To rid you of your life."_

' _O then cried out the scullion boy, As loud as loud might be; "O save her life, good master cook, And make your pies of me!_

' _For pity's sake, do not destroy my lady with your knife. You know she is her father's joy, For Christ's sake save her life."_

' "_I will not save her life," he's say'd, " Nor make my pies of thee, Yet if thou dost this deed betray, Thy butcher I shall be."_

' _No when this Lord he did come home, For to sit down to eat, He called for his daughter dear, To come and carve his meat._

' "_Now sit you down," his Lady said, "O sit you down to eat. Into some Nunnery she is gone; Your daughter dear forget."_

' _Then solemnly he made a vow, Before the company, That he would neither eat nor drink, Until he did her see._

' _O then bespoke the scullion boy, with a loud voice so high, "Now if you will your daughter see, My Lord cut up your pie._

' _Wherein her flesh is minced small, and parched with fire, All caused by her step-mother, who did her death desire._

' _And cursed be, the master cook, Q cursed he may be! I proffered him my own hearts blood, From death to set her free."_

' _Then all in black this Lord did mourn, And, for his daughter's sake, He judged her cruel step-mother, To be burnt at the stake._

' _Likewise he judg'd the master cook, In boiling lead to stand, And made the simple scullion boy, The heir to all his land._'

The was a moment when everyone just stared; a silence broken only by the soft crackle of the fire and the sounds of the outdoors around them.

Then, Peter let out a single breathy sigh.

' Whoa.'

**Update! Sorry it's a few days late, it took me ages to find a suitable ghost story to fit in here. This is called **_**The Tale of Lady Ellen**_**, and I found it in a book of Scottish Ghost Stories in my very own substantial library. **

**For any non-British readers, Flumps are just marshmallows. And for the British among you, Crosshills is in fact strictly in Yorkshire, but it's near the border and, shall we call it artistic licence? **

**That's it, really. Thanks for reading! **


	37. UPDATE Important info, please read!

Right, so. I've been on unprompted hiatus for, shit, two years now. Personal life got in the way, and I was struggling to keep up with everything and unfortunately fandom got dropped.

I'm sorry, but I'm back now. I can't promise there won't be slips again, but everything is pretty smooth running at the moment, and should there be any problems you guys will be informed.

Now that that is out of the way, here's the deal;

I went back to re-read Might've Changed and I cringed.

When I checked my outlines, it wasn't as bad as all that. But the execution, hoooh boy. There's a lot of things I'm not happy with. The pacing, the characterization, my habit of switching POV mid sentence.

So, the plan;

**I'm rebooting.**

I still love these characters, I love writing them. I'm still pretty happy with the general outline I have for the story. But there's some things I want to change, mostly regarding characterization. I started the fic originally at the beginning of their 5th year. As such, the personalities got a bit muddied along the way, I chopped and changed things between chapters... I was all a bit messy. To remedy that, I'm going to start from the start. I've already got a sort of 'newsfeed' prologue that outlines important events in the boys early childhoods, and I want to do a chapter briefly detailing each year up to their 5th. This is more for my benefit, to let me get back into the headspace I had three years ago, but hopefully you guys'll enjoy it, too.

**Now, the important bit**;

I don't want to take it down while I edit, and lose all the wonderful comments and encouragement people left over the years.

Instead, I'm going to change the description to **'DOWN FOR EDITING'**, but leave the chapters up for now.

I'm taking the next few weeks to work on the new introductory chapters I want to put in, and then I'll start re-working the posted ones. I'll replace them one chapter at a time, starting probably from the beginning of April. There are 36 Chapters up, so it'll take a while to get back to where I was, but I'm working to get as much done this month as I can to put me ahead. I'll let you know if this changes.

Updates on how this is going, details of changes to the schedule and possibly sneak peaks, depending on interest, will be posted to this Tumblr account. (The link is on my profile, as is one to my askbox.) I'll try to keep updated on schedule changes, too.

Any questions or comments are probably best directed to my Tumblr, too. You can message me on here, but it'll probably take longer for me to answer.

Thank you so very, very much for your continued support and interest in this fic! It really means the world to me. Thank you.


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